


The Fall of House Winchester

by hunters_retreat



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Slavery, Alternate Universe - Vampire, December Drabble Days, M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-04
Updated: 2010-10-04
Packaged: 2018-01-08 00:01:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 31,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1125937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hunters_retreat/pseuds/hunters_retreat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Vampire Master Ford was well- known for his love of hunting paraphernalia. Six years after the truce that brought humanity and vampires’ peace, he finally found the one thing he’d been looking for, Dean Winchester.</p>
<p>Dean was looking for a way to escape the slave pens until the day he was put up on the auction block. He wasn’t about to be cowed by anyone though, certainly not over some slip of paper that said he no longer had the right to his freedom.</p>
<p>Master Ford wasn’t what he thought he would be at all though. The vampire Master was kind and cruel in turn, turning a blind eye to Dean’s independence but punishing him severely for the smallest of things. Dean didn't know what Ford’s plan for him was but the more time he spent in Ford’s house, the more nothing made sense.</p>
<p>Worst of all, how could he escape the vampire that calls himself his Master when he found himself protecting him from enemies he never knew he had?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the amazing inanna_maat for the amazing art and soundtrack she made to go along with this story. You can find them at her [ Art Masterpost](http://inanna-maat.livejournal.com/79405.html).

 

 

 

The metal doors creaked against the intrusion and he wanted to do the same, to moan and protest the two men that came walking into the cell.  He knew better though.  It didn’t take long in the slave pens to learn to keep your head down and your mouth shut.  He had a harder time figuring that out than most of them.  He was Dean Winchester after all.

The guards moved through the spineless masses looking for their next mark, someone else to be sold on the auction block.  Dean kept his head down, hair grown long to hide his face from prying eyes.  If someone did see through it, all they would see would be the filth and muck of the stables and nothing of the vain man he’d once been.  His vanity was just another possession he’d lost. 

He dug black fingers into the ground of the holding cell, fresh earth since the pens had been cleaned out earlier in the day, and felt slightly replenished for the clean feel of it.  When he closed his eyes he could smell fresh dirt and grass, feel the warmth of the sun on his skin, and remember the clear cool comfort of a long swim in a forgotten pool. 

He pulled away from the memory though.  He needed to focus.  He hunched his shoulders to make himself look smaller, something that got easier the longer he remained there with the way he was losing weight.  His clothes, filthy rags that needed to be salted and burned rather than washed, hung off him in ways that made him look sickly and repugnant.

The guards continued through the crowd but it was obvious they were looking for a specific slave, not just anyone.  He realized they were looking for him as they continued to pick up anyone that had his build.  He’d been in the pens too long, he knew that.  They were looking to get rid of the old meat and bring in the new. 

If they only knew.

They spotted him a moment later and there was nothing he could do about it.  He couldn’t run and even if he did, no one was going to stand up for him, taking his place on the block.  They were slaves, less than a person in society’s eyes, and they behaved as such.  Another thing he’d learned the hard way. 

A rough hand grabbed him and Dean stilled his body’s initial instinct to lash out and get the hell away.  It would just excite his handlers and he had better things to do than become someone’s lunch.  He went willingly even if he didn’t know what to expect outside the pens.  What he did know, was that Dean Winchester was about to go on the chopping block.

 

 

 

 

“Stand straight,” the guard hissed in his ear and Dean ignored it.  He felt himself pushed against the wall when he didn’t obey the order.  Hot breath against his neck, sharp teeth pressing to his veins and he held his breath against the fear that they would take him this time.

“You don’t have time for that,” the other guard saved Dean from the hunger he could feel emanating from the first guard.  “Besides, you’ve seen him.  You don’t know what’s on his skin or who else has had their fangs in him.”

He felt the pressure lessen and he had to scramble to keep upright as the creature moved away from him.  He didn’t allow himself the comfort of closing his eyes, of taking the shuddered breath he wanted because they would know it for the weakness it was.  He’d managed to stay in the pens unnoticed for over six months without anyone taking a bite out of him.  He had no intention of letting it happen now either.

He was pushed down a dark hallway, his eyes unable to adjust as doorways opened to the right, letting in bright light that stung and blinded his night vision.  He was dragged up a set of stairs and then shoved without warning through a curtain and out into a staggering spotlight.

He closed his eyes then, hoping to let his eyes adjust that way.  He could hear the murmur and he was glad he’d managed to keep his shoulders hunched in spite of the instinct to stand tall and remind them that he was strong, that he was a hunter for fuck’s sake.

He wasn’t anymore though.  There were no hunters left.  The war between human and vampire had taken its toll on everyone and when the government, newly formed in the wake of the bloodbath, had decreed hunting a government job, they went about training their own.  Calling them rogues didn’t stop the old time hunters though.  Hell, they’d always been on the wrong side of the law.  The only problem was the vampires didn’t take it so well when they kept right on hunting them.  The hunters were quickly decimated, all but a handful who were good enough and went to ground.  Dean had managed to stay under until he’d seen an overseer, human of all things, beating a vampiric slave. 

Dean had no love of vampires, but he couldn’t stand brutality against someone that was helpless to defend themselves so he’d formed a plan.    It worked perfectly too, right up until one of the human slaves gave him away.  That was when he realized the truth of it all.  Vampires were no worse than humans, they were just more honest about their blood lust. 

He’d been shackled and turned over to the master of the house, a human who simply threw him in the pens to sell when the next fair came along.  In that first month he learned to hide himself, to make himself indistinguishable from the spineless rabble around him.  He had to.  The guards learned that a hunter was among them and the last thing he needed was for them to scent him.  So he kept the filth and stench around him like armor because if there was something vampires prized more than a hunter to break, it was an unbitten hunter to sink their fangs into.

“A renegade,” the announcement was met by murmurs in the audience and he knew what it meant.  He’d listened enough in the pens as the other slaves talked about being on the block.  Renegades meant trouble so the asking price was lower.  He was just lucky the man who captured him hadn’t realized he was a real hunter.  “Tried to help a handful of slaves escape, human and vampire.  The denouncement of legal rights is available upon purchase.  Scars on the body show a hard life but he is in good health otherwise.  Bidding begins at $500.”

He opened his eyes and was beginning to make out his surroundings.  He couldn’t see into the audience with the light shining at him from the front, but in his peripheral he could see the dark drapery and the fine velvets that adorned the chairs and couches along the stage.  He could make out the vague shape of booths in the back.

“ _Adeo_ ,” he heard a small feminine voice call from the back, familiar but he couldn’t place it.  He knew the word though, knew what it meant as she said it there, watching him on the block.

“Of course, _adeo_ has been called.  If any would like a closer look, please come forward.  Just a reminder than there is no tasting the items while they are still on the block.”

A laugh went up among the audience and Dean felt sick to his stomach.  Some of that laughter had been nervous, humans in the vampire’s lair, but not much.  The vampires surrounded him and if one of them got hold of his scent it would be over.

A human man came forward, pulling at Dean’s long, lank hair.  He bit his tongue to keep from speaking because there were no rules about not forcing a slave to obey on the block and he didn’t need to be shown his place in front of all these people.  His pride could only take so much.

The man stared at his face for a moment then pressed a hand to the marks on Dean’s neck.  No one touched them long enough to know they were faked.  At least living the hunter’s life had given him that, enough knowledge to be able to fake the look of a bite mark.  He ran his hands over Dean’s shoulder and back, frowning at Dean’s hunch.  

When he stepped away, a small woman stood before him.  She ran her hands along the same line, checking his shoulders, running strong fingers over his arms.  She came to the front and faced him, her thumb caressing the marks on his neck in a gentle move that nearly made him shiver.  It’d been too long since anyone had touched him with anything close to kindness.

She didn’t undo his shirt like he’d heard so many of them did, but her hands slid up under the cloth to feel the muscles of his chest and abs.  When she pulled her hands out, she finally looked up at his face.  Her eyes bore into his and it was with a gasp that he straightened up and took a step back.

“Jo?”

She stepped closer, smiling to reveal the points of her teeth before she let them draw back.  “Slaves aren’t allowed to speak on the block.”  She reached out with one hand on his shoulder and forced him to his knees.  She leaned down, whispering in his ear.  “I suggest you don’t look up either.  You don’t know who might recognize you.”

He looked up through his hair and watched her as she nodded to someone over her shoulder.  She smiled, and then walked away from Dean, leaving him alone on the platform.

“Now then, I said $500 for an opening bid.  And we have $500.  Do we have $525?”

Dean phased out the bidding.  He really didn’t want to know how much someone thought he was worth.  There were ripples of laughter around him, people, vampires, all having a good time as they looked at the human on the block, mentions of what he might look like if he weren’t so filthy, if he was really as tall as he’d been for that moment or if it was just a trick of the light.  It all passed unnoticed to him though, his mind still reeling over the image of a vampiric Jo Harvelle.  It’d been years since his father had taken him to the Roadhouse, years since he’d seen the little girl with golden hair and big blue eyes, but he’d known her instantly. 

He closed his eyes again, no longer caring about what it said of him as he thought about that trip, thought about the little brother that had followed him around and Jo trailing after them as they sparred and ran and trained while their father worked on a hunt with Jo’s dad.  His brother’s eyes flashed at him, angry and sad and damning as they always did, that last memory of betrayal as he walked out the door, walked away from his family to go to Stanford.  Dean always thought he’d have a chance to talk to Sam again, to make up for being too angry to accept his brother’s decision, but he never got it. 

San Francisco was one of the first cities hit in the wave of the Vampire Rebellion.  The surrounding area had turned to chaos in days and Dean had never found Sam, not even a hint of what had happened to his brother.  He hoped he’d somehow managed to find other hunters to stay hidden or maybe just gone to ground alone, but the more time that passed the less Dean believed it.  Not after the horror stories that came from the survivors of the California Overtaking.  The state had been decimated, the vampires deciding to consolidate their power there and work outward once the initial burst of fighting had begun. 

It’d taken Dean two months to get to Stanford.  He’d searched for two years before finally giving up, hoping Sam had escaped the torment there.  When Dean found other hunters, found the rogues the new government branded traitors, no one else had heard anything of Sam either.  John mourned the loss of his son the only way he knew how.  He cracked open a bottle, and then went on a quest for vengeance.  He managed to kill more than 30 vampires in a six month period before one finally got him.  Bastard wouldn’t let them take him alive though, not John, he wouldn’t give them the chance to turn him.  Dean had watched as Bobby pulled him away, running like mad to escape the same fate, as John ate a bullet. 

Dean nearly did the same once they were safe, but images of Sam still swam in his head, images of Sam hurt or worse, waiting for Dean to save him.  It took him another two years before he stopped actively looking for Sam.  As much as he had given up hope of ever finding his brother, he still couldn’t stop the small kernel that kept him going, the feeling that if his brother were dead he’d know it.

He jerked upright at the pounding of the gavel, indicating his bidding was over.  The spot light was turned away as another stage to his left lit up, bringing on the next poor soul.  Dean blinked his eyes to get his sight back, but then a small hand was placed on his arm.

“It will just be a moment,” Jo said softly beside him.  “Master Ford is checking your papers for authenticity and then we can be on our way.”

“Master Ford?  So you’re a slave now Jo?” he scoffed. 

“So are you Dean,” her fingers pressed into his arm with more strength than a human would have.  “Master Ford is good to us so long as we show him the proper respect.”

Dean laughed.  “So you’re saying I’m going to be whipped often, is that it?”  It was a common enough punishment for a slave, even if Dean refused to admit that’s what he was.  Someone could write it on a piece of paper, mark it with a seal, but no one could take his freedom.   

“I hope not Dean,” she said softly.  “If not for your sake, then for his.  He doesn’t want to see you treated harshly.”

“I’m sure he’s very concerned about the condition of his property.”

She eyed him for a second before turning away.  He followed her gaze and could see a tall man walking away from the auctioneer’s podium. 

“Come on Dean, we have to go.”

“So that’s the infamous Master Ford,” he said softly.  Even if he had been too upset thinking about Jo as a slave to say something at first mention, he hadn’t missed the name.

“Yes,” her clipped tone let him know the conversation was over.  “Now hold still.”

She wrapped a collar around his neck and Dean started to back away until he felt his back pressed against another body.  He knew who it was by the widening of Jo’s eyes and he tried to turn his head to get a good look at Ford’s face but he was prevented by a large hand catching his chin and pulling it until Dean’s cheek was pressed into his shirt.  “You would do well to let her collar you.  If I cannot collar you I cannot control you and I will have no part of that.  You should hear what the guards would do to you, if I weren’t here, if I sent you back to them.”

Dean stopped struggling at the voice.  It was reminiscent of something but he could feel the heat of the words, the way they were spoken against his skin.  The voice was warm but harsh, as if he hadn’t used it often and was only now becoming used to speaking.  The hand on his face was gentle for all its strength and the body pressed against him was warm and firm.  He tried not to think of how much blood he had to ingest to get that way.

 The collar snapped shut around his throat and Ford’s other hand slipped the leash into the ring before handing it to Jo.  “See to it he’s cleaned and dressed well,” Ford said to the slave.  He dropped away from Dean then and even thought Dean turned as soon as he could, Ford’s back was already to him.

He stared for a minute but then there was a tug at his neck and he looked at Jo.  “We have to go.”

“In a hurry to have your wicked way with me?”  It was meant to be light hearted but the words had too much heat behind them, too much anger to be a simple joke.  It didn’t take long in the slave pens to know how the hierarchy worked.  He’d been left alone before because no one knew who he was, but if Jo and Ford knew who he was, then there would be a number of slaves that would want to make sure he understood he was the new meat in the market. 

She eyed him up and down, appreciation in her gaze.  “Master Ford has already warned the other that you’re off limits.  You don’t need to worry that someone will try to take advantage of you.”

“Wait, he knew I was here?”

She smiled at him, showing both sets of teeth.  “No, but he’s been looking for you for years Dean.  You’ll understand later.  For now, follow me.”

Dean didn’t have anything else to say.  Why would Ford want him personally?  He shivered, knowing there were plenty of creatures that would like to take a chunk out of a Winchester, any Winchester.  He just hoped he survived long enough to find his escape route.  There had to be a way if he was just patient enough.  And once he escaped, he’d find out who did this to Jo, and they would pay.

 

 

 

 

 

He slept fitfully in the carriage.  One of the things that had been destroyed in the war had been the oil reserves.  The world was on fire for months.  Gas was far too valuable to be wasted on something like a slave so while Ford had probably arrived at home the night before, Dean and Jo were forced to take the slower route.  He felt every bump and turn and when he was finally comfortable enough to get some shut eye, the pull of his leash as Jo tightened it in her sleep made him wake. 

He kept himself inside the carriage now, after a guard had nearly blacked his eye for peering out.  He didn’t know if they thought he was trying to escape, or if they had orders to keep him inside, but that glimpse had been enough to see what he needed to know.  There were six guards on the carriage, all vampiric.  He couldn’t escape on the road as much as he’d been hoping his supposed acceptance would win him a little leeway.

When morning broke the sky, they were pulling through large iron gates that surrounded the property.  The Manor House was large and he could see the new construction that continued its growth.  He didn’t know if it was a new house or if Ford was just building up from what had originally been there, but it was an imposing property.  He couldn’t help but be impressed with the amount of protective flora around the fences and the placement of devil’s traps and other symbols in the working of the iron fence as well. 

Rumor said that Ford was paranoid.  It also said he was a fighter, someone to avoid at all costs.  He’d challenged one of the old ones to a duel three years before for owning a slave that Ford claimed wasn’t legal.  Ford had claimed the vampire’s property and the slave after he’d beheaded him.  Dean secretly cheered the death though.  It was the vampire that had almost captured his father, the one that caused his death.  As much as he hated the world’s new social class of Masters, he had been almost grateful at that death, even if he did wish he’d been the one to slice the sinew that held the vampire’s life. 

“Breakfast will have to wait until you’re clean,” Jo said softly. 

He didn’t realize she was awake.  She was watching him as she leaned against one wall, her hand tightening on his leash.  He wondered if she was scared of Ford or if she was just hoping for a reward for making sure Dean didn’t run.  He hoped it was fear.  He’d seen plenty of slaves, human and vampire alike, that had fallen in love with the people they called Master as a way to cope with the world they now lived in.  He had no pity for them and he didn’t know how to feel about Jo giving up like that.

“Might take a while.  Have to let you soak.  Maybe get some bread sent up so you don’t pass out on me.  You don’t look like you’ve been eating well.”

“Really?” he asked with a smirk.  “You can see that?”

“Wasn’t looking for a cheap feel last night Dean.  Master Ford wanted to know if you were still in shape or if they’d hurt you.  Plenty of scars on that body of yours, but you’ve still got some muscle.  I could feel your ribs though which means you’re too lean to keep your strength much longer.  Don’t worry; I’m sure Master Ford will have you fattened up in no time.”

“Of course, wouldn’t want him to have to eat anything so stringy.”

She glared at him for a moment but then the carriage stopped and the door opened.  She didn’t have to pull at the leash for him to follow.  As much as he hated the circumstance he found himself in, he needed to move on, to see what was in store for him.  The quicker he adapted to the new environment the quicker they would loosen the security around him. 

The promise of a bath, of being clean didn’t hurt any either.  Jo knew who he was, had faithfully relayed the information to her master, so he no longer felt the need to cling to the filth that had protected his identity.  He just hoped he’d been in the pens long enough to remove the other scent, the one that let vampires know he was unbitten.

Jo didn’t give Dean time to take in his new surroundings though.  She walked through the large double doors and into the immaculate house.  He was ushered up a large staircase and Dean knew he’d have to do some exploring real fast to learn all the twists and turns of the house.  Too many turns later and Jo led him into a large bathing room.  He’d seen them before when he’d raided an Owner’s home.  The bath was the size of a small pool, made for a Master to sit with his slaves in attendance, to choose which of his or her beauties would have the honor of washing them, cleaning them, servicing them in whatever fashion they wanted. 

He took a step back but Jo’s grip on the leash held him there.  “It’s just you and me,” she said, as if she could understand his fear.  “Trust me, Master Ford wouldn’t touch you if you were the last thing on Earth.”

She walked over and undid the leash, setting it on a hook by the door.  “The collar has GPS and a sensory stimulator,” she explained as she walked past him, shrugging out of her shirt.  “You know what that means?”

He nodded and she continued to strip, obviously making use of the bathing pool to wash away the grime of the road.  “So he’s going to shock me when I do something bad?”  He had a good idea he already knew the answer to that.  With a sensory stimulator he probably had the grounds wired so Dean wouldn’t be able to walk past the fence without being shocked into unconsciousness.  They weren’t cheap but if you had enough money and status you could still find them.  Ford was nothing if not excessive from what Dean had seen so far, so he didn’t put it past him.

Jo ignored the question and beckoned to him as she stepped into the warm water.  “Come get cleaned up Dean.”

He could see the steam rising and he suddenly couldn’t get his clothes off quick enough.  He dropped his clothes in a pile and followed Jo into the heat.  He submerged himself in the water, scrubbing his scalp until he needed to come up for air.  He went back under again though, scrubbing until it hurt.  He hated the damn hair, wanted nothing more than to chop it all off but he’d have to do with scrubbing himself clean until he could.  When he came up again, he looked over and saw Jo smiling softly at him. 

“Let me help.”

At her words he moved over to her.  There was a seat built into the side of the bathing pool and she sat up on it, pouring shampoo into her hands as he leaned back against her.  Her hands worked a lather into his hair, her nails scratching his head softly in a manner he’d thought too rough for her demeanor.  She pushed his head under water and when he came back up she continued to work her fingers in his hair. 

“I can cut it if you want,” her voice was soft as she leaned closer, speaking the words in his ear.  Her bare breast brushed against his back and he took a deep breath.  

He turned to look at her, this beautiful creature that he’d known once upon a time.  Her long blond hair hung wet around her shoulders, her skin pale as her blue eyes took him in.  He reached a hand up, cupping her breast, his thumb teasing over her nipple.  Her eyes closed as she tilted her head back slightly in submission.  He was as hard as he could ever remember and it had been years since he’d allowed himself anything like this.  He didn’t hesitate as he pulled her lips to his with one hand and reached between them with the other.  He slipped one finger into her body and she was so damn tight he wasn’t sure he’d survive it.  She snapped her hips forward though as her mouth opened to him and he added a second finger.  When she moaned in his mouth it was too much.  He pulled his fingers from her and pushed in with his cock.  She felt better than anything he could remember and he had to still himself to keep from losing control as soon as he was sheathed inside her. 

He pulled out nice and slow, felt the shift of her body with his and then he was slamming back into her.  She wrapped her legs around his waist and gripped his shoulders tight.  He wasn’t going to last but he pulled back to look her in the eye, to see what he was doing to her.  She tried to look away but Dean gripped her hair and forced her to look. 

He pushed away as he did, pushed away from the look in her eyes no matter that his need was roaring in his ears.

“What the fuck?” he demanded as he watched the anger burning through her.  She looked away from him but he persisted.  “Why?”

She ignored him as he slid out of the pool, stopping at a small vanity to find another bottle, pouring lotion in her hands.  He watched her rub it into her skin and then pull on a bath robe that sat on a hook beside his leash.  She looked up at him then.  “Master Ford asked me to make myself available to you,” she said softly, “in all ways.”

“So you’re not just a slave, you’re a whore.”

“Fuck you Dean!” She screamed at him.

He was horrified at the whole thing, but part of him was cheering because at least she still had some backbone. 

“He’s never … he would never ask me …”

“… To whore yourself out.  And yet here you are.  Guess that whole being in love with your Master isn’t working so well for you after all.”  His words were harsh but he couldn’t help himself.  Jesus Christ he’d practically raped her, only it was all well and legal because her Master said it was.  He wanted to be sick at the thought, but her anger forced him to focus on that.

“He’d never ask me for anyone but you,” she finished.  “He’s been looking for you for years Dean.  Years.  You have no idea who he is and what he can do, but he’s never treated me like … like ...” she swallowed hard and he could see the tears in her eyes as he moved closer.  “This is all your fault.”

“Jo,” there was nothing he could say to make that better.  He didn’t know what the hell Ford was doing but he’d hurt Jo with this to try to appeal to Dean in some way.  “I’m sorry.”

He watched her back straighten, watched the way she stifled the tears and forced her chin up.  “Don’t be.  Just come here.  I was told to cut your hair.  I think I remember how you used to wear it.”

“I don’t want it cut,” he said, instinctively wanting to put off anything Ford wanted of him.

“You can either come here and let me cut it, or I’ll simply use the collar and have the guards haul your unconscious ass out of the water.  But be my guest, stay in the water.  I don’t think it would bother me to see you writhing in pain about now.  And the guards, well they can be a little handsy from time to time.”

He clenched his jaw but moved to her side anyway.  She cut his hair and scrubbed the dirt from his face, and then sent for another slave.  The girl came in, silently stealing into the water to wash him.  She didn’t make a noise as she worked, just kept her eyes down and her hands moving over his skin until he was raw from it.  He felt clean though, in ways he hadn’t in years. 

The girl finished and left the pool, taking a bath robe from Jo as she leaned into her.  Jo kissed her temple and smiled softly at her.  “Good girl Jess, thank you.” 

Jess gave Jo a pleased smile, and then looked back at Dean for one moment before leaving the room.  They both watched the place she disappeared from for a moment before Jo started moving.  “Come on Dean.  I’m hungry and tired and we have a long night ahead of us.”

“What?”

“After lunch I suggest you take advantage of that bed of yours.  There will be a party tonight and you’ll be attending, all night long.  Master Ford is,” she smiled at him and he realized that Ford wasn’t the only vampire he had to watch out for.  “showing off his newest collection.  It’ll be a fun night.”

There was nothing he could say to that.  Instead, he got out of the water and accepted the robe Jo gave him.  He followed her to the kitchen for lunch, his leash firmly held once again in her hands. 

 

 

 

 

He shifted as he looked in the mirror.  Old jeans, faded and nearly threadbare, a black tee and a wine colored button up over it.  He felt like himself again, felt clean and untainted, his hand scrubbing through his hair that now stood straight up in spikes, no longer covering his face.  He looked like himself, but all it took was one glance at the collar to remind him of where he was, why he wasn’t the brash, cocky young man he had been.  The collar was his deterrent; it kept him on the grounds when he would have already tried to run.  He wondered if Jo had warned him about it because she knew he’d run, or because her master had. 

It hurt to see her so cowed by the vampire, even if she had been turned into one herself.  She didn’t act like she feared Ford necessarily, but everything she did was ‘at his order’ and it always had to be done now.  Of course, that could just be payback as well, just like the way she was tugging at the leash, the metal letting out a little jingle that reminded him even if he could only barely see the collar above his shirt.

“It’s time to go Dean.”

“Where are we going?”  He knew they were going to a party and he was on display but he didn’t know anything else about it. 

“You’ll be expected to behave Dean.  Master Ford will hold your leash himself.  It’s an honor you need to learn to appreciate.”

He gave a soft snort at that.  Yeah, he’d start working on that right away.  Jo didn’t answer though.  She stood up and he couldn’t help but marvel at the dress she wore.  He didn’t know if they were meant to match tonight but her dress was the same wine color as his shirt.  It clung to her body with a low neckline and high slits up the thigh.  Her hair was worn loose and she’d gone all out with the make up and perfume.  He felt under dressed but apparently they wanted him to look ‘authentic’.

Jo tugged on his leash as she started walking and he didn’t have any choice but to obey.  She pulled him up into the carriage and it took them down a small lane that he had been told was just leading them to the other side of Master Ford’s property. 

It only took a moment to get there and they waited for a few minutes until finally Dean could hear a door opening and the party spilling out into the night.  “Stay seated until he brings you out,” Jo said as the door opened.  She stepped out but Master Ford came to look at him and Dean got his first good look at Master Ford.  He was tall, with long hair pulled back tightly at the neck.  His mask matched their attire and Dean knew it was on purpose.  It hid his face, leaving only hard eyes to bore into him.  The leash was held tightly in his hand as Ford gave him the once over.  “You’re too thin, but Jo will take care of that,” he said, his voice scratchy and deep.  Dean’s eyes widened as he realized why.  Ford didn’t seem to be trying to hide it either, because his collar did nothing to disguise the marks on his neck, scars where someone had tried to rip his throat out. 

“Come on, it’s time to show them my newest possession.”

Ford watched him as he said it and Dean bit his tongue to keep from commenting about that.  When Ford turned his back and pulled on the leash, Dean followed.

 

With Jo holding his leash he’d been too interested in what had changed her, what broke her.  Was it the simple silver collar wrapped around her pretty neck, or had her turning broken her resolve and allowed her to become the subservient creature that she was now?  While she led him he allowed himself the escape of those questions.  He had no such luck when it was Master Ford who held his chain.  There was nothing to distract himself from the humiliation he felt as he was led into the house.  He was kicking himself for his lack of observation but all he could do was stare at the length of chain that ran from the vampire’s gloved hands to the collar at his neck.  Owned.  Property.  A slave, with nothing to his name and no right to it if he did lay claim to something. 

He was used to having nothing.  For so many years of his life, everything had been held in a small duffle, easily packed and easily lifted.  The Impala had been the only real thing he owned and even then, when he had to choose between hiding the Impala away and continuing his search for Sam on foot, or staying closer to the gas pumps, it hadn’t been a choice.  One thing the title of slave could never take from him was his soul, his spirit and there was a simple reason for it.  He was Sam’s.  His brother had owned him since he was six months old, a transfer of ownership written in smoke and blood and ash when his father had sent him running from the house with his brother wrapped tight in his arms.

The chain signified ownership though, it bound him to the here and now and there was nothing he’d like to escape more.  He knew he had to keep an eye out, to find a way to escape but it would take time now.  He wasn’t sure where he’d turn then.  He was a rogue hunter, but there were others of his kind out there that would still help him, get him back on his feet.  There weren’t many of them left, but they did what they could for their own. 

It was more than he could say for the rest of humanity.

His feet felt like lead as he walked the short distance from the carriage to the house.  Three steps up and they were on the brink of the doorway.  Ford turned suddenly, eyeing Dean, his lips pulled up in a ridiculous smile.  “Who would have thought, Dean Winchester, that you would be so cowed by a single day in my home?”

Dean’s eyes rose up to meet the vampire before him, his back straightening as he squared his shoulders.  Maybe it was better to let him think he was already one of his tame sheep, but something in the way he said it set Dean off.  He took a step forward, challenging the vampire.  “I’ve seen things that would make your bloodsucking teeth fall out.  Don’t think you can break me in a night.”

The chain around his neck was pulled tight, Ford’s fist pulling him close as he edged his nose up under Dean’s ear, licking lightly at the flesh.  “It would be a challenge to break you in one night.  Maybe I’ll just settle for breaking you in.”

It was meant to be seductive and the gravel in the man’s voice certainly helped the illusion, but they both knew if anything happened in the bedroom tonight it would have nothing to do with seduction.  Dean didn’t know if Ford wanted to break him completely, if he wanted him for the fields or just for show.  Hell, he just might want Dean for his bed if he’d been looking for him as long as Jo said he had.

Dean tried to take a step back but the collar stopped him, still held tight in Ford’s fist.  “Would you bend for me Dean?”  The vampire asked, his teeth brushing over the vein at his neck.  “Which would it be I wonder?  Would you let me feed off you, to keep me from fucking you?”  He let out a deep laugh, warming Dean’s skin.  “Which would you let me sink into you, Dean?” he asked, scraping across skin lightly.  “My teeth?  Or my cock?”  One hand pulled tighter at his leash while the other settled proprietarily on his hip, bringing him closer.   Dean could feel Ford’s hardness against his stomach. 

There was no way to pull back and as much as he wanted to turn his head and pull away it would only expose his neck further.  He stood still, not giving an inch either way.  He didn’t know what would be worse and the indecision scared him.  It was safer though, not letting even the most minute of movements give away his preference.   Ford didn’t seem like the sort of master who would give his slaves a choice. 

The vampire laughed again as he loosened his hold on Dean’s leash.  Dean stepped away, his fists held tight as he fought the urge to strike out. 

“Come on, Dean,” he gestured to the door, as if they were on a first name basis, “we don’t want to keep our guests waiting.” Like they were just friends going to a party and he wasn’t some blood sucking parasite on the face of humanity and Dean his favorite sucker.  A blood sucking parasite on the face of humanity and a vampire to boot.  God, Dean hated slave owners.

He walked into the house, his shoulders back and head held high, which left his next realization open for everyone to see.  This was his home.  He knew every piece of furniture and every trinket like he knew the inside of the Impala.  He was standing in the living room of his family’s house in Lawrence.  The living room furniture had been replaced with a long dining table, but the wall decorations were all the same.  His eyes took in every nuance of the place and he hated whoever put that much detail into recreating his childhood home. 

He realized Ford was watching him and he knew it was the vampire’s doing.  “So this is all part of your collection?” he demanded.

Ford smiled at him and Dean wanted to hit him for it.  “It took me a while to find all the pieces.  To be honest, I was just filling up time, waiting for you to show up.”

“Well now don’t I just feel special?”

Ford laughed but then he turned away from Dean, pulling him behind to the table where his guests were watching.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Dean Winchester.”

The table seated twelve and moving around the guests were servants of various kinds, wait staff and personal attendants.  There was no order to the rankings, vampire masters and human masters sat side by side, as if they hadn’t been at war seven years ago.  As if humanity hadn’t almost been wiped out and most of the world’s resources destroyed in the fighting.  As if the truce could change what type of monsters they were.

“I thought he was cowed already?” a middle aged woman said from the side.  “That doesn’t look cowed to me.”

“Whoever thought that this hunter could be broken in the slave pens never met him.”  The woman who answered her had her back facing Dean, sitting at the end of the table but she didn’t need to turn around for him to know who it was.  She turned anyway though, scorn and anger obvious in her face.

“Ellen?”  Dean gasped as he looked at the woman.

She stood and held a hand out.  He didn’t understand until Ford leaned over, placing the leash in her hands.  She circled him, eyes hardening as she did.  “You’d be best to bleed him first.” She said as she assessed his condition.  “Nothin’ hurts a hunter more than to become a victim of their prey.  Then I’d teach him the right end of the whip, remind him what it means to really be just a piece of ass,” she stopped in front of him, staring him in the eye.  “Then, I’d let him be the piece of ass he was always looking for.”

She handed the leash back to Ford.  “If that don’t work, I’d turn him.” Her smile was beautiful and cruel as she sat back at the table.  “Test his true mettle then.  If he’s a real hunter, he’ll find a way to kill himself within a week.”

He looked down, not because her words scared him, but because he knew Jo was there in the room somewhere.  She was listening to her mother spout words of hate and it wasn’t Dean she was speaking to, probably wasn’t even him she was seeing at the end of the leash.

Anger boiled up in him but even as he wanted to say something he felt the tug on the collar and reminded himself that he needed to bide his time.  He’d get out there somehow.  Just maybe he’d find a way to get Jo out too before she was any further attached to the man she willingly called Master.

“You should just kill him.  He’s more trouble than he’s worth.”

“Really?”  Ford asked as he pulled Dean behind him, taking the head of the table while forcing Dean to sit to his right.   “Why would you suggest I kill him when I spent years looking for him?”

Dean couldn’t help the anger this time, didn’t try to keep it from his eyes as his father’s old hunting partner looked over at Dean.  Caleb had seen better days, fitter days that was for sure.  He was three times the size as he’d been when Dean last saw him, back in the early days as he left to try to find Sam at Stanford.

“You’ll get better use out of a stuffed Winchester than you will a live one.  He’ll be no end of trouble and he’ll never accept that collar.  Better to put him on display than spend the rest of your fortune in keeping him.”

“Does anyone else have any ideas on what I should do with the last of the House Winchester?”

“I’d make him dinner,” a vampire sitting across from Dean said.  She licked her lips as she eyed him, focusing on his lips as she continued, “and dessert.”

Ford laughed.  “So the consensus is that I should just open him up on the table until we’ve all had our fill, then take him to my bed, and continue until he’s dead.  Or submitted.”  The vampire’s eyes belied the humor of his laughter and he turned to Dean.  “It’s, perhaps, best that I found you before any of your so called friends Dean.  They think so poorly of you.”  He nodded to another servant in the doorway, a slave Dean hadn’t yet seen, and they were bringing in plates of food for the human guests and a thick cordial was poured into the goblets of the vampires.  He didn’t need to look to know it was fresh, warm blood filling the fine crystal that Ford had brought in for the occasion. 

“I think I will keep you as you are, Dean,” he said loud enough for them all to hear.  “They think you will never break, that you will be defiant to the end, but they don’t know how patient I can be.  They don’t understand that I know how to out stubborn even a Winchester.”  He looked up at Jo and Dean saw the way she smiled. 

Then Ford turned to look at him, something almost familiar in those eyes and he snapped his gaze away, knowing it was just a trick some of the more powerful ones could play, luring people into a false sense of security.  “When the time is right, Dean Winchester, I will break that delicious rebellion from your lips and put them to much, much better use.”

Dean ignored the chuckles around the room, ignored the way his heart thumped painfully in his chest at the thought of the vampire touching him.  He looked back up at Jo, trying to find something to anchor himself on.  She looked at him and he didn’t know what that look meant anymore than he knew what the look between Jo and Ford had meant.  He wished the damn vampire had the mask off.  As much as he hated the man, he couldn’t read much from him with the damn mask shadowing and hiding away most of his face. 

Jo’s face was a study of pride and shame and he didn’t know how to take it.  She was obviously very fond of Ford, willing to do whatever he wanted as he’d learned in the bath, but the way she looked away said that there was something going on that she didn’t approve of.  Maybe it was because Ellen was there, or maybe it was something about himself.  He was still too new in the environment to know how to read things, to know how to adapt and use what he was seeing to his advantage.

Well, Dean wasn’t the most patient of Winchesters, but he could wait.  He could learn and listen and file it all away until it all started to make sense.  And once he was free?  He’d be sure to pay a little visit to some old friends.  Ellen and Caleb had been like family for a while.  He could understand the bitterness that came with sitting at the table with one of the vampiric kind, but to stand aside and watch as hunters were bought and do nothing about it?  To talk about how best to break a slave, a hunter?

What bothered him most was that Ford was right.  He was probably safer with the vampire than with any of the others.  He felt oddly in his debt and he fucking hated it.  The vampire claimed ownership of this body, he had no rights to anything else.

The meal continued around him and when his own plate of ribeye steak was placed in front of him, he thanked Ford for it as he was commanded.  He ate quietly, listening, learning, and biding his time until he could make his move.

 

 

 

 

Dinner lasted until late in the evening and well before it was over Ford sent him back to the main house.  He told the others he didn’t want to wear out his new pet so soon, but Dean couldn’t even work up the energy to be angry.  Too much had happened in the last forty eight hours and when Jo showed him into his bedchambers, he went willingly.

The room was enormous, dark drapes hanging over the windows and thick fabrics covering the furniture.  On the far wall was the bed, a four postered monstrosity that looked decadent.  There were night stands with matching lamps on either side of it and a chair sat on one side towards the end of the bed. 

Between the bed and the door was a small waiting area, complete with a table and chairs.  Food had been left out on the table, fresh fruit and breads. 

“It’s a kindness, Dean,” Jo said as she watched him take in the room.  “He can be a gentle master if you let him.”

“I don’t belong to anyone Jo,” Dean said turning to look at her.  “I can’t believe I have to tell you that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“No one can own you!”  He yelled.  “What made you think you deserve that?  What happened to you that you think you can be owned?”

Jo’s eyes filled with tears but she shook her head, anger winning out over her pain.  “You don’t have the right to judge me Dean.  You weren’t there.  You don’t know what I’ve been through, so you’ll forgive me if I don’t give a good goddamn about what you think about me.” 

He wanted to hate her for the words, but at least she was angry at him again, just a shade of who she had once been, but it was there. 

“Jo…,”

“I’ll be back in two hours.  Asleep or awake, you’ll be restrained on the bed.”

“What?”

She smiled vindictively, going so far as to let the second row of teeth descend.  “You’ll be shackled to the bed.  Master Ford believes he’ll find a way to get to you Dean, but he’s not stupid.  Until he believes you’re his, you will be restrained to the bed.”

Dean shook his head.  “This sucks.”

She turned her back on him without answering.  He didn’t need an answer to know he was right.  She shut the door and he was left alone in his room.  Alone for the first time since he’d been captured all those months ago. 

He stared out the window, losing himself to the small amount of peace he could get in the two hours he was given.  Part of him knew he should be trying to work out his escape, but he needed far more information than he already had and at least he could get a little clarity from the time.

He stared across the field to the house he’d once lived in.  He thought about his father, dead by his own hand to keep from being turned, his mother burnt alive in the house he had just eaten dinner, and about his brother.

Sammy.

He closed his eyes against the sob that threatened to overwhelm him.  He’d failed his brother, failed to find him when he’d needed him the most.  With no way of finding him and no leads, Dean simply went from one place to the next, looking for hunts, and asking about his kid brother.  He didn’t have any faith that he’d find him, but he could never stop looking entirely.  Every time he came close, his brother’s face rose up in front of him and the fear that Sam was out there somewhere, waiting for Dean to save him, spurned him forward once again.

When Jo came back, she found Dean still at the window close to the bed.  He stripped down to his boxers and slid between the silky sheets as she reached out and shackled both hands to the board over his head.  Neither said a word. 

Dean just hoped it was Jo that came in the morning to release him.

 

He didn’t know how late it was when he heard the door quietly click closed and Dean kept his eyes shut, his breathing even.  As much as he wanted to tug at the shackles that held his wrists, he didn’t want to let whoever it was know he was incapacitated if they didn’t already. 

It wasn’t morning yet, not by a few hours anyway and he’d yet to meet the full contingent of slaves on the property.  There was a good chance someone was there to call on him in a less than polite social call. 

He heard the shuffle of feet from across the room and heard it stop not far from the bed.  There was no light in the room and with the drapes pulled shut there was no way to see who his intruder was.  They knew the room though, knew it well enough to see in the dark.  Or they were vampiric and didn’t need the damn lights. 

“I know you’re awake Dean,” Master Ford said softly. 

Dean let out a deep breath, opened his eyes, and turned towards the sound of fabric being pulled off.  He heard the soft zing of a zipper being pulled down and the soft fall of fabric hitting the ground in a puddle. 

He felt the other side of the bed dip down slightly with the vampire’s weight and he wanted to scream but he bit down on the instinct.  “What do you want?”

Ford slipped between the sheets and didn’t answer.

“They keep saying you treat your property oh so well, but the way you’re interrupting my sleep seems a bit counterproductive, don’t you think?”

“Do I own you Dean?”

He jerked away at the thought, tried to get up but his damn hands were keeping him in place.

“Can I do whatever I want to you?”  The vampire said as he shifted over.  Dean turned onto his side, it was as much as he could do, and Ford was pressed against his back then, his hard cock pressing against Dean’s ass as his hand trailed up over Dean’s arms.  “All those girls you fucked in back alleys and bar bathrooms, did you ever let anyone fuck you?”  He asked as he thrust lightly against him.  “You ever take a cock up your ass Dean?  Ever let one slide over those goddamn lips of yours?”

“Get the fuck off me!” Dean pushed against Ford, struggling to get away from his hands and body.  Ford pressed his nose into the base of Dean’s neck, one hand coming over his hip and down until his palm was rubbing at Dean’s cock through the fabric of his boxers. 

He was out of space, no room to move as Ford thrust lightly against his ass, forcing Dean’s hips to thrust up against the hand on him.  He could feel himself getting hard from the friction.  He’d been so worked up with Jo earlier, only to pull away before he could find release when he’d realized she didn’t want him inside her, that she was only doing it because her master told her to. 

“So this is what you want?”  Dean asked, trying to put as much bite in his words as he could.  “Just wanted a Winchester to fuck?  I can’t stop you, not with my hands tied.  You gonna take me right now?  Press into my body and force yourself on me?  Gonna use me up until I just spread my legs for anyone you send into my bed?”

“Fuck,” the vampire’s words were heated, lust lacing everything but his hands pulled back as he gripped Dean’s hip tightly.  He thrust into the curve of Dean’s ass, pressed so tight but not making an effort to pull the clothes from between them.  “Not going to force you Dean,” the creature panted against his ear.  “Gonna make you beg for it, make you want me so bad you can’t live without me.”

“It’s not going to happen.  Trust me.”

His words seemed to affect the vampire more than anything and he heard the soft groan fall from his lips.  Then there was the warmth of Ford’s seed as he spilled against Dean’s ass, his tongue swirling patterns over his neck and shoulders as his fingers pressed and released, alternating as he rode out his orgasm.  When his body was still, Ford let out a soft chuckle.  “God Dean.  You have no idea how long… I do trust you but you have no idea what I have in mind for you.  No idea what I’m willing to do to break you.”

Ford got out of the bed then and left the room.  Dean closed his eyes, willing away the erection that was tenting his boxers.  It was just a reaction to the friction, he knew it, but it was hard to rationalize that when he could still feel the come drying on his shorts, seeping into the skin of his ass.  It was hard when he kept thinking about the strength in the hands that held him and the soft gravel of Ford’s voice in his ear.

He had to find a way out and quick.  Ford wasn’t just a bastard, he was a smart bastard.  He knew how to fuck with your head and he’d started it off with Jo and the house.  Now he was trying to break Dean, to turn him into some kind of fucked up sex slave. 

He couldn’t do it.  He wasn’t attracted to men, never had been.  With one exception and … well … he’d been the exception to every rule in Dean’s life.  If Ford thought a little bit of hand work and the scent of sex was enough to send him down that path he was sorely mistaken.

Dean let out a deep breath and tried to refocus his mind.  He had to get away.  He had to get Jo out and find a way to get them both underground before they could get caught.  He had to get his thoughts clear of Master Ford, his plans to break Dean, and his fear that Ford might actually be smart enough to do it.

 

 

 

  
                       

 

     

 

 

 

The slave who released him the next morning didn’t say anything to Dean.  Clean clothes were laid out on the bed for him, a tray of food brought in for his breakfast, and then they were gone, ignoring his questions like he wasn’t worth answering.

Fucking slaves.

He cleaned up in the shower, careful of the tender skin around his wrists from sleeping in the shackles, and then got dressed.  His clothes were familiar, the sort of thing he used to wear all the time, though these were new, pressed and clean and he was sure they’d never smelled of ash or ectoplasm or grave dirt. 

Breakfast was fresh blueberry pancakes with bacon and a thermos of coffee.  He was tempted to throw it against the wall but it would just make more work for the slaves and he needed to keep his strength if he was going to escape.  Jo hadn’t been kidding about that.  His time in the slave pens had stripped away most of his reserves and he wasn’t as strong as he used to be.  He needed to regain the weight, regain the muscle that he’d lost in those six months.

He ate with a passion, thinking of the food and only the food, pushing aside any thought of the night before or what it might mean for the next night and any night after. 

When he was done eating, he went back to the window and looked out over the yard.  He could see his childhood home in the distance.  People were moving around it and Dean wondered if they were putting it back together, taking out the large dining table from the party and putting back the one that John and Mary had bought when they first moved in. 

He didn’t know if any of the things in the house were real or if they were just fakes, but it hurt to think that Ford had gone through all of that, that he’d really bought all the missing pieces of his childhood, like it was nothing more than a child’s dollhouse.

The door opened behind him and he looked over his shoulder to find Jo closing the door.

“Did you sleep well?” she asked.

He snorted at that.  “You mean was I able to sleep after Ford felt me up?  Yeah, great.  Thanks for the concern.”

“He isn’t like that,” she demanded.

“Cut the bullshit Jo.  If he’s not like that yesterday wouldn’t have happened.  Last night wouldn’t have happened.  So just stop whatever you’re trying to sell and tell me why you’re really here.”

She clenched her jaw and he could see the way her knuckles went white as she pressed her fingers into fists.  She grabbed his leash off the wall and Dean took a step back.

“It’s your choice Dean.  You can come along nicely or I can leash you.  If you try to run though, I promise you whatever you think happened last night will be a breeze compared to what they’ll do to you.”

Dean took a deep breath.  She really didn’t believe him about Ford.  He wasn’t sure if it was because she thought so highly of Ford, or because she thought so poorly of him.  Either way, he realized she wasn’t going to be a willing ally in this. 

“I’ll come along, no need for the leash.”  She hooked it in her belt, and he let out a soft sigh of relief.  “Where are we going today?”

“The Master asked me to make sure you knew what you were here for, what your duties were.”

“So what am I here for?” he asked.

She just opened the door as she smiled back.  “To look pretty.”

 

She took him through the house and Dean was beginning to get a better idea of the lay out.  Everything had been too confusing when he’d first been brought up, but as he had travelled the halls before the party he’d adjusted enough to begin to focus on his surroundings.  He had a map in his mind now, a layout of the house being built with every new step he took.  He catalogued the slaves around him, tried to make sure he knew which were human and which weren’t.  It would take time, but sometimes the way they moved or the task they were doing gave them away.  They all seemed to back away from him and as much as he wanted to think it was because of his reputation, he had a feeling it had more to do with the warning Jo had mentioned before they left the auction house.  Ford had gone out of his way to purchase Dean and no one was going to be allowed to mess with him.  It might be comforting if he knew that warning didn’t include Ford himself. 

Their first stop was a room at the back of the house, on the lower level.  Jo led him into a glass walled room.  Gym equipment lined the long wall of the room and a pool took up the rest of the space.  It looked old, like whoever had lived here before the revolution had taken great pains to show how much wealth they had, flaunting their luxuries.  The ceiling was two story and up above, there was a window that looked down into the space.

“You’re kidding me, right?”

Jo shook her head.  “Master Ford wants you back in shape Dean.  It doesn’t do him any good to get a tame hunter on his leash when the hunter couldn’t even kick a ghoul back into his crypt.  He wants you back in fighting condition.”

“And if I refuse?”  He wouldn’t but he had to ask.  He needed to get into shape, he needed to get free from his prison.

“Then Master Ford will come up with something to,” she stopped, looking up and to the left as she looked for the right word, “motivate you.  He’s really creative Dean.  You might want to avoid seeing what he can do when he sets his mind to it.”

“Fine,” he huffed.  He didn’t know how to read Jo.  She was enjoying this, tormenting him, leading him around.  He knew there had to be something there though, underneath it all, that remembered freedom, that remembered how to be a hunter, but all he could see was another slave who’d fallen victim to her master, to the delusion that she was just another piece of property. 

He didn’t know how to change that.  How could he when he didn’t know the first thing that had happened to her?

“How did it happen?” he asked her softly, looking pointedly at her neck. 

Her eyes widened and she bit her lower lip in a manner he remembered so well from before, when he and Sammy had teased her and laughed until she’d stared them down, making his little brother take pity on her.  He looked away at the memories.  He couldn’t think of Sam just yet.  He had to get free.  He had to escape so he could keep asking.  As much as he wanted to know if Jo had seen him he already knew the answer.  If she had, if Jo knew where Sam was, Ford would already have another Winchester on his leash.   

Her eyes bored into his and he knew he wouldn’t get an answer.  He didn’t really want one anymore.  He looked up, trying to still the anger that grew at the thought.  Jo had sold him out and he had no doubt she would do it to his brother, too.  As much sympathy as he had for her plight, he couldn’t forgive that betrayal.  Movement drew his eyes and he realized that there was a man in the shadows above him, staring out through the window above.  He could see the height from that distance and even though he couldn’t see a face for the shadows he knew it was Ford, coming to look down on him.

“Just fucking perfect.”

 

After his workout and laps in the pool, Jo didn’t give him an option with the leash.  She hooked it back on his collar and led him around the back of the house.  She opened up a large barn door and he walked inside with her.  He’d been afraid of what he’d find there.  Ford had to keep his own version of the slave pens Dean had originally been placed in, but that wasn’t what he found in the barn.  Instead he ran his fingers over the first of the six cars in the stalls.  Dust filled the air as if the room hadn’t been disturbed in some time.  Only one car was covered, the rest hidden under coats of grime that Dean streaked as he walked past. 

He knew the shape, knew the feel, and he didn’t ask permission before he pulled the protective jacket from the car, finding his beloved black impala in the last stall.

“Oh baby is it good to see you.”

“It nearly broke him to find it,” Jo said softly.  “He thought for sure when he found her alone, abandoned on the side of the road that you had to have been killed.  He never stopped looking for you though.”

“What the hell did we do to him, huh, Jo?  Tell me that?  What did I do to deserve this?”  He pulled at the leash in her hand and her grip tightened like he was trying to tug it away.

She scoffed.  “You … you took away his family Dean.  You took everything that meant anything to him and now he wants…”

“What does he want?”

She shook her head and for a moment, Dean thought she looked scared.  “I don’t know Dean.  I thought I did, but I don’t.  I just hope you give it to him.  If you can’t … well … like I said before, he can be creative.”

 

 

 

 

 

He dropped into the warmth of the water and sighed as his muscles relaxed a little.  Ford wanted him to get back in shape, to be a pretty little doll on his shelf, but no one was allowed to get by on just their looks.  There was too much work to be done and Ford expected the most from his people.   After a morning of working out and being shown the grounds, Dean had been put to work with the construction crews, helping to build another stable. 

The men and women he worked with joked among themselves but they never looked at Dean, never tried to include him in any of it.  He didn’t know if it was because he was new or because he was off-limits, but it bothered him when he smiled and people looked away. 

The building looked similar to the stable Jo had shown him earlier.  He had no idea what was happening in the outer barns where another contingent of slaves went to work everyday.  He thought about asking, but he didn’t want to appear too inquisitive and he doubted anyone would be willing to answer him anyway.  In a little time, he hoped, he’d get them to open up enough to talk to him, but it would take more than a day or two of charming them.  Master Ford might feed them well, but he doubted from Jo’s words, that anyone was willing to take a chance when his temper was so well known.

Still, it surprised him to see the overseers taking an interest in the slave’s condition.  They weren’t treated harshly, though they were expected to work hard and be grateful for what they were given.  Their clothes were sturdy and the food given to them at lunch was filling, in quantity and better than Dean had eaten in the last six months.  It didn’t compare to the dinner at Master Ford’s table of course, but Dean had never been a food snob.  He’d gone hungry enough in his younger days to learn to take it when he could get it.

They were given gloves and protective gear and when Dean asked about it, Jo scoffed, asking how much work a slave would get done if they couldn’t do anything but bleed all over the materials.  “And it’s a good way of causing trouble with the newly-turned,” she added with a grin that included her second set of teeth. 

“He lets you turn them?”  Dean asked as they rested together against the half finished wall as they stopped for a water break. 

Jo shook her head.  “No, but sometimes he’ll take the new ones in.  He helps them get control of it.”

“Sounds like a real humanitarian.”

“You don’t know anything about him,” Jo hissed as she pushed him back to work.  Anger burned in her eyes and he needed to figure this out.  He needed to know why his opinion of Ford seemed to hurt her so much.  “You of all people… you just …” 

Jo stalked off then, leaving Dean behind.  He didn’t know how to take her departure.  He didn’t know what was happening around him and Jo was his only guide.  The overseer came over and gruffly told him to return to work, but he could see the fear in his eyes.  If Dean said no, if he walked off after Jo, the man wouldn’t stop him.  He was too afraid of Master Ford’s orders not to touch him.  He didn’t know how to treat a slave he had no power over. 

Dean filed it away for later use, but for now he did as he was told.  He had to ingratiate his way into their company, to get his questions answered, and he wasn’t going to do it by walking away when there was work to do.

It was late by the time Jo had returned and she’d simply slipped the leash on his neck and pulled him along to the bathing chamber.

 

When he looked up from the water, Jo was gone.  The leash was on the wall though and the girl from the day before slipped in the door.  Jess, he remembered.

He moved to the other side of the bathing pool and found the soap but Jess reached a hand out first and stopped him.  He backed away and watched as she slid into the water, coming over to stand beside him.  Her long blond hair fell around her in beautiful eddies of movement and he took a deep breath, remembering all too well what Jo had said.  He was off limits and even to those he wasn’t, he was a command.  He wasn’t sure which side Jess fell on, but he wasn’t going to hurt someone like that again.  He wasn’t going to let Ford make him feel any dirtier than the collar and leash already did.

She turned him around and began working into his shoulders, soap soothing the way as she dug into the tired muscles.  He moaned into her hands but jerked up as two slaves came in the room.  Candles around the edges were lit and the harsh lighting overhead was turned off in their wake.  Jess pushed his head back down, forcing him to look down. 

She pushed him against the wall, arranging his arms so that he could rest his head on them over the edge and then her hands slid under the water, massaging his lower back.  Her hands were gentle but strong as she worked on him and he couldn’t help his body’s reaction, the way he hardened at her touch.

“She’s beautiful isn’t she?”

He closed his eyes but it didn’t make the vampire’s presence feel any less intrusive.  When he opened his eyes Ford was sitting in the corner, shrouded in shadows.  He could clearly see the sharp dress shoes he wore, the clean line of pressed denim, and the crisp white button up that disappeared into the darkness just below his chest.  A dark velvet jacket held silver cuffs at his wrists and his voice was the same soft gravel he’d heard the night before.

“Not much of a conversationalist, but you do seem to like them pretty,” Dean answered.

“No Jessica doesn’t talk,” sadness seeped from his voice.  “She can’t.  They took her tongue when they fed from her.  They didn’t like the way she screamed.  They thought she was so beautiful in her tears that they cut her tongue out so they could keep watching her.”

“Son of a bitch.”

“Yes.  She doesn’t like to be touched but she will do the occasional favors, if you ask nicely,”

Jessica smiled over at the vampire and Dean felt sickened by the devotion that shone in her eyes.  So much like Jo, bought and wrapped in a pretty package, just waiting for her master to tell her where to go next.

“As much as I’ve enjoyed the show, it’s time for dinner.”

He stood and left, leaving Dean that much more confused about Ford.  Jessica pulled him out of the water and dried him off, pulling out a new set of clothes for him.  He pulled on the jeans and let his hands run over the soft fabric of the shirt.  He’d never been the type of man who really appreciated the finer things, he never had them to appreciate, but it felt damn good.  He pulled the long sleeved shirt over his head and Jessica ran a hand down his chest, settling the gray fabric. 

“Thank you,” he said softly.

She looked up at him and gave a light smile before patting his cheek.  When she turned, she slipped into a pretty white dress and pulled his leash from the wall.  He let her hook it into his collar, and then followed her out the door and back to his rooms.

 

Dinner was with Ford, though the vampire sat in the corner, sipping from a cup.  Dean felt self-conscious with the arrangement and even though the food was amazing he had trouble eating it.  He needed more information and while he didn’t want to get to know Ford any better, he seemed to be the only one that was going to talk to him.

He looked around the room and the dark romantic feel of the heavy fabrics and soft candlelight and smiled in Ford’s direction.  “Seduction works so much better if you try it up close and personal.” 

“Maybe I like watching you from a distance,” the vampire’s words were a caress against his skin and Dean shivered slightly with it.  He didn’t know what it was about that voice, something familiar but untamed, wild and uncontrolled, but it reached him in ways he had to fight against.

“I’m prettier up close.”

“You’re pretty no matter how I look at you.”

“Maybe I’d like some company?”

“You can ask your questions from where you are, Dean.  I won’t deny you the answers.”

Dean realized that Ford wasn’t going to come forward, not yet anyway and so he dropped it.  He took a bite of chicken and watched the corner, wondering what it was that Ford was looking for in him.  Jo seemed confused though she had been so certain at first.  He wondered at the fear in her, at the shame he’d seen, but it was all in relation to him and Ford, never to herself and her own situation.  Nothing about this made any sense. 

“How old are you?”

The vampire laughed.  “Not one for subtlety, are you?”

“If you know so much about me, you already knew that.”

“Fair enough,” there was humor in his voice though and Dean wondered exactly how well he did know Dean.  “Twenty five.”

“You’ve been a vampire for twenty five years?”  He knew a little about the vampire hierarchy and that didn’t seem old enough to be in the position he was now, one of the most feared vampires in the country.

“No, I’m twenty five.  I was turned six years ago.”

Six years ago, after the damn treaty when the government had decided to turn away from humanity and embrace the darkest parts of its history to survive with the vampiric pestilence it couldn’t destroy.  Dean grabbed for the bottle of beer and took a long pull, trying to wash down the disgust he was feeling.

“You don’t think much of me, of us.”

“You kill people to eat.”

“You kill chicken.  It’s really not much different.  If it makes you any happier though, I’ve never killed a person for food.  I have plenty of slaves who think it’s an honor to serve me in that way.”

Dean snorted.  “I bet.”

He could feel the tension in the air and he watched as Ford stood, coming closer.  A mask covered his face and Dean wondered if the rest of his face was as scarred as the skin at his throat.  He wondered if the vampire was so vain he couldn’t let his face be seen by others.

“There are ways to survive Dean, without killing.  I have never, and would never, take a life like that.  I will take blood, willingly given, or not willing if the punishment demands it, but I do not take pleasure from it.  This was never what I wanted to become.”

“You’re saying you were turned against your will?”  The thought appalled Dean.  He didn’t expect vampires to live by the same moral code that he did, but the laws of the treaty had been perfectly clear.  No one, not even a slave, could be turned against their will. 

“Yes, the vampire that turned me cared very little for the treaty.  He wanted,” he moved around the table, coming up behind Dean.  He pulled him out of his seat and cupped his chin, forcing him to look up, “he wanted something pretty, something to keep for all eternity.”

Dean couldn’t stop the way his eyes darted down to Ford’s throat and the vampire laughed.  “I wasn’t so convinced.  In his anger, he became savage and destroyed what he thought he could keep.”

“He was the one that hurt Jessica.”

He could see Ford’s eyes harden as he nodded.  “And Jo.”

“But Jo.”

“Would hardly cry out when they hurt her, would she?  They took her freedom though and they broke her when they turned her.”

“And you helped.”

Ford’s fingers dug in harder.  “Don’t compare me to the monster that did those things,” his voice was dangerously quiet.  “I am a vampire, and yes, I own them, but I am not the monster that made them what they are.”

Dean knew he should back down but he couldn’t.  His spine stiffened and his hands balled up into fists.  “You’re just another breed of monster and one of these days, you’re going to find my knife slicing away your life.”

Ford’s hand dropped away from him and he backed away, eyes shouting desperation and shock in ways Dean couldn’t understand.   He retreated back to the corner and Dean just stood there, staring back at him, trying to figure out what the hell that was.

It wasn’t fear.  Whatever Ford was, he wasn’t afraid of Dean.  The pain in his eyes, the panic, it brought something else to mind and he couldn’t place it.  It hurt, cut him deeper than he could understand. He didn’t know how to react to it, what to say to get out of that moment.

“Sit down,” Ford said, his voice angry from across the room.  Dean didn’t obey immediately but Ford didn’t seem to be in the mood for any more rebellion tonight.  “Sit down and fucking eat your dinner.”

Dean took a deep breath as he stared into the darkness, and then finally dropped his eyes, sitting at the table, feeling the crushing darkness around him as he tried to choke down the rest of his food.

 

When he was done, servants came and collected the dishes and left silently.  None so much as looked at Dean and he was okay with that for the moment.  They left the room and Dean moved to stare out the window. 

“It’s the best view in the manor,” Ford said softly. 

His voice had lost its anger but there was an undercurrent of apprehension that Dean still couldn’t place.  Nothing about Ford was what it should be.

“So you gave it to a slave?”

He didn’t hear Ford move, but he was behind him suddenly, his words whispered into Dean’s skin.  “Do you think I give all my slaves such glorious rooms?”  Dean shook his head because he didn’t trust his voice.  Ford’s body was pressed against his back and he had to close his eyes as the memories of the night before flooded him.  “These are my rooms Dean.  They are the only rooms you will ever sleep in.  You’ll share them with me, just like you’ll share everything with me, eventually.”

He didn’t answer the taunt.  The vampire was convinced he would break but Dean knew himself better.  They could force him, they could turn him, but he wouldn’t break for that. 

“It’s been a long day for you,” Ford said, one hand on Dean’s hip as the other pulled him back, guiding them to the bed.

“No.”

“Yes.  You can force me to do this or you can make this easier on yourself.”

Meaning he could either give in to the orders of the vampire or he could keep his dignity.  It was different, agreeing to work out, to do the work in the yard with the others.  He had objectives there; he needed to be there to get information so he could break out.  Letting himself be led to Master Ford’s bed, to be shackled for the vampire to use as he would?  It wasn’t something he could do. 

“No.”

He didn’t have time to protest again because he was pushed back, the vampire using his strength to throw him down on the bed.  The vampire snapped his wrists into the restraints and Dean pulled violently against them, wishing like hell he was strong enough to fight back already.

Ford pressed him back hard as he struggled, forcing Dean to the mattress, then leaned down, his full weight holding him in place.  “God the way you smell right now Dean,” he whispered. 

He felt teeth nipping at his neck but they weren’t pointed, weren’t the sharp teeth he knew could rip his throat apart.  “Thought you weren’t going to force me,” he prayed his voice was stronger than he felt, desperation ripping through him.  He’d never been bitten, never let any vampire close enough to take a bite and he had to keep it that way.

“Except as punishment,” Ford said, licking lightly at his neck.  “You certainly deserve it today Dean.”

He sat up though, walking away from the bed and when he came back there was a knife in his hand. 

“Don’t.”

“I’m not going to bleed you Dean,” Ford said softly like he would to a skittish child.  He brought the knife up to the hem of Dean’s shirt and began cutting away the fabric. 

“I liked this shirt,” Dean said, trying to hide the fear that was racing through him.  Bravado was all he had left at the moment.

“So did I,” Ford answered as he cut one arm open.  He looked up at Dean, eyes smiling, “suppose I’ll just have to find you another one.”

When the shirt was gone, Ford put the knife away and came back, pulling off Dean’s shoes and socks.  When his hand came to the buttons of his jeans Dean froze.

“I’m fine sleeping like this, thanks.”

“I’m not,” Ford said, slipping the button free before he pulled at the zipper. 

Dean closed his eyes but not before he saw the want and need in the vampire’s eyes.  He felt his jeans being pulled off and then Ford was back, whispering in his ear as his fingers slid under the waistband of his boxers. 

“I know how much you hate this Dean, how you hate the monsters touching you.  How humiliated you must feel when I’m undressing you, but you had the choice.  When you leave it up to me, I’ll always take it further.”

His boxers were pulled down and he was left naked on the bed, shackled as Master Ford stood beside him.  Dean opened his eyes as Ford began pulling his jacket off, throwing it over onto the chair at the side of the bed before undoing the buttons of his shirt.  Dean couldn’t help but admire the muscular chest and strong wide shoulders.  Even if he hadn’t been vampiric, the muscle on him would have been formidable. 

A dark chuckle escaped Ford’s lips and he realized he’d been caught staring.  He tried to look away but the room was thrown in shadows, the way Ford seemed to prefer it, and his eyes were drawn back to the pale flesh the light revealed. 

Ford slowly lowered the zipper of his pants before sliding his fingers under the waist band and pushing everything else off.  Dean’s eyes took in sharply defined calves and strong powerful thighs, covered in a light dusting of hair.  Ripped abs and just beneath, a hard, leaking cock that jutted up against his stomach as he stood there, letting Dean look his fill.

He turned away again, knowing without a doubt that the last couple days, Jessica and Jo, they’d all been a way to get him so worked up sexually that he didn’t have a chance against his body’s desires. 

Ford crawled on top of him and Dean tried to buck him off, but the vampire anticipated that, bringing his legs up between Dean’s thighs so he could pin him more completely.  He bit his lip to keep from moaning at the friction on his cock but Ford was there, whispering in his ear again.

“I can smell it, Dean, your desire,” he said as he nipped at his neck.  “I can feel the desperation in you.  You’re fighting this so hard, but I know how to handle you, I know how to break you.”

He thrust his hips up against Dean’s but Dean remained still, refusing to give in to the physical need no matter what the vampire was doing. 

“How did it feel last night Dean?” Ford asked, bracing his arms on either side of Dean’s face.  “How did it feel to fall asleep with my come on you?  Knowing I could take you any time I wanted.”

“Are you trying to scare me?” Dean forced the words out.

Ford laughed as he stared into Dean’s green eyes.  “It isn’t fear I smell when I talk to you like that, Dean,” He thrust up again and let his head fall back, and Dean took his chance then.  Ford’s position gave him just enough space to work his knees up between them and he pushed, knocking Ford into the large post at the end of the bed.  He was up on his knees a second later, crouched because the chains gave him no space.    

Ford’s eyes were wide behind his mask and Dean wanted to throttle him, wanted a knife so bad his fingers itched for it. 

Ford smiled then, his hand reaching between his legs as he stroked himself.  “God, Dean, so fucking wild,” he said as his whole body began to quake.  He watched the way Ford’s fingers squeezed and pulled, twisting at the end of each stroke, wringing a groan from the vampire.  “So fucking untamable,” His voice rose as Dean watched his orgasm hit, come spilling from over his hands as he kept his eyes on Dean.

Dean’s body shuddered and Ford crawled up the bed slowly, telegraphing every move.  When he finally reached Dean he reached out a hand, his thumb tracking over Dean’s lower lip. “Untamable, but still mine.”  Ford said with a hint of glee in his eyes.  “I will keep you chained forever if I have to, but you are mine.”

He moved back then, turning to crawl under the covers on the bed beside Dean.  Dean stayed where he was for a while, trying to still the racing of his heart, to push down the raging need.   He finally unclenched his fists and let himself relax.  He didn’t crawl under the covers with the vampire, didn’t stretch his legs out to make himself comfortable.  It was a prison and he shouldn’t let himself be comfortable there.  It was what Ford wanted.  He wanted him to feel like it was less of a prison and more of a choice that he was making.  It wasn’t.  It just made Dean more determined to get free than ever.

He closed his eyes as he leaned back against the headboard, hands at his side, knees held to his chest as he tried to get into the sleeping position he’d been in the slave pens, always ready to come up swinging if need be. 

He let his head fall back and licked his lips, moaning at the taste, the slight trace of Ford’s come that the vampire had left there for him.  He looked over at the vampire and found him watching through the damn mask, his smirk knocking something loose in Dean as he forced himself to look away.  As he forced himself to remember he was nothing more than the creature’s slave.

 

 

 

    

He began fighting against everything after that.  Ford never lost his patience, although Jo did.  Every time she lashed out, with tongue or fist, it reminded him what he was, why he was there.  Every night when he curled up on the bed, fighting against whatever Ford did, it reminded him of who he was and why he needed to be free. 

Ford never forced him to do anything, except to be there.  The most he did was rub himself off on Dean’s body, whispering in his ear how good it would be when Dean finally gave in.  The worst was when Dean fought him off and Ford would watch, stroking himself off as he stared into Dean’s eyes, possessive and hungry from across the bed.

Every day after his work out Jo took him to the barn and he would unwrap his baby, taking in the sight of the Impala, remembering the feel of her under his hands, the feeling of freedom as he drove on a long stretch of road.  He remembered for a few minutes what it had felt like, his brother at his side, the warring annoyance at his big brother and hero worship when Dean managed to talk their father into something inane like staying in one place a month longer for Sam to finish up the semester.

He relished the memories, took strength in them every day. 

It wasn’t always enough though.

Some nights, it was too hard, too much.  When Ford rolled onto his side, eyes slipping closed, instead of imagining how he could kill him, what he could use, if he could only get his hands free, to wrench his head off his shoulders, he closed his eyes and imagined it was Ford’s hand on his cock.  The first time he’d worked his hand fast and hard, punishing himself until release came, biting his lip to keep silent.

The next day he’d been asked to go work in the back sheds instead of helping the construction crew.  It turned out that Ford’s main business was transportation.  There weren’t a lot of cars on the road anymore with the trouble and expense it took to get gas and oil, but Ford seemed to have a market in servicing them.  He also seemed to have a fair number of carriages and steam boats that were either made or repaired by his people.

Instead of an exhausting and boring day of construction he was under the hood of a car, working on something he enjoyed. 

That night he fought back harder, not just against Ford but against himself.  His shackles were no longer chains, but a thick metal cable that gave him more room to move, more room to fight.  He had a good idea he knew what Ford wanted him to do with the extra room, but the vampire simply laughed when Dean threw him off, laughed as he pinned his hands over his head and shot all over his stomach.  When morning came, he went back to the construction crew and stayed there.

It took another two weeks before it happened again, his body’s need overcoming his hatred of the situation and he worked himself slowly, quietly hoping the vampire was too far asleep to hear him.  He felt the shift in the bed though, felt the warm hand on his hip and as Ford bit lightly at his neck he came so hard he nearly blacked out.

He was back with the motor crew again the next day, being shown the difference in the steam engines, soaking in what he could of the knowledge. 

The third time it happened, Ford had turned him onto his back at the last moment, forcing him to look into his eyes as he came. 

The next morning he stared out across the barn, his hands resting on the metal of his car, but nothing could erase the bitterness at the back of his throat.  He had to get away.  He was running on fumes, his resistance becoming less and less as he fought against Ford’s hold on him.

What was worse was that he could understand why the slaves didn’t want to escape, why they did what they could to please him.  He was a good master; he took care of them and gave them what they needed.  It was never just enough to survive, he let them live.  They were his property, but they had housing in the far estates, two to a room.  There were no slave pens like Dean had been a part of.  They were kept healthy and clean, their master giving them the privacy he denied Dean.  They ate well, better than free men most days, and they were given time for themselves.  He used them like workers, not slaves.  If he had to be a slave then he wouldn’t want to be belong to anyone else either.

It was that thought that hurt more than anything, the thought that maybe he should just settle where he was.  Ford obviously wanted him to be happy here, was willing to give him whatever he asked, so long as he gave in to the few demands he made of him.

He had to get out before he became like the rest of them, like Jo and her goddamned need to serve, Jess and those bright eyes and sweet smiles that rewarded him every time he did as Master Ford asked when they were entertaining guests or simply having dinner alone. 

He took a deep breath and that was when Jo came closer, unlatching his leash.  He looked up and she was motioning to the Impala.  “Master Ford said he wanted you to take a look at it.  Most of the cars in here are just fancies he found along the way, nothing important, but this one is special to him.  He wants her in good working condition.   You have this afternoon to do it.”

Dean looked at the keys in her hand and took them, running his fingers over the edge, recognizing the keys to other things as well, his Post Office boxes in Montana and Texas, and the key to Pastor Jim’s back door.  Not that any of them were worth anything now, but they were his memories, something else to be gleaned from his afternoon of freedom.

He started the car up and listened to her, making notes in his head of what he heard.  It was easy to lose himself in that, to get covered in grease and oil and to imagine Sammy sitting on the other side, drinking iced tea as he talked about English class and how Becky Worthington thought he was going to ask her to the prom, except they already knew they wouldn’t be there for it.

“Dean, it’s time to get cleaned up,” Jo called out later. 

He looked up when she did and realized how late it had gotten.  They always went in before true dark but tonight their walk back to the house was quiet, nothing but the moon to guide their steps.  Jess bathed him quickly, not taking her time to work out stressed muscles.  He was okay with that.  He felt as exhausted as ever, but working on the impala had always been a sort of stress reliever for him so he didn’t need it tonight like he usually did. 

To his surprise though, as she settled the soft burgundy shirt over his shoulders, she pressed up on her tip toes and kissed his cheek lightly. Before he could say anything, she grabbed his leash from the wall and walked out without hooking it into his collar. 

He followed her back to Master Ford’s room and took a deep breath as the smells overtook him.  “Damn, I’m hungry,” he said as he stepped into the room.

Ford laughed lightly in the corner.  He was always there early, working his way closer as Dean ate.  “You’re late.  I thought I was going to have to send it back to the kitchen untouched.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled.  He figured if Ford was really upset about it he’d have sent Jo for him earlier but it never hurt to stay on the master’s good side.  “I got a little lost in work today.”

“Eat,” Ford said, smiling behind his mask.  “I know it’s your favorite.”

Dean took a seat and relished the first bite of steak, medium rare with just the right amount of spice.  He closed his eyes, savoring the taste.  Yeah, he ate well at Master Ford’s table, but that didn’t mean he ate steak every night.  The damn vampire had apparently loved fish as a human and he forced it on Dean far more often than he’d like.  He’d take a steak over that everyday, and Ford knew it. 

It was just as well though.  He was back in fighting shape and the last thing he needed was to get fattened up now that he was ready. 

He took a long pull from the beer bottle and rolled it in his finger tips, missing the companionship of his father and brother.  He’d come to accept Jessica as well, though she couldn’t talk, her eyes and the way she held her mouth were expressive and he could see when she was calling bullshit on his stories or when she believed every word of it.  She was normally right too. 

He looked across the darkness and let out a deep breath.  “Why don’t you join me?” he asked Ford.

Ford stilled in his corner for a moment, the still that only the dead could really accomplish, then stood.  He came closer and Dean realized that since the first meal he’d taken in the room, he’d never asked again. 

He felt nervous suddenly, remembered what had happened the night before and the look in Ford’s eyes as he’d watched Dean lose control.  He set the beer on the table and took another bite of steak to keep from having to say anything just yet.

“How is the Impala running?” Ford asked, taking the conversation into something Dean could more easily navigate.

“Good.  You’ve obviously had someone looking after her, but nobody knows my baby like I do.  I’d like to get her oil changed, take a couple more days to clean her up right.  She shouldn’t be left in the barn to rot like that.  She needs to be driven.”

“We’ll have to see what I can work out,” Ford said with a small smile.  He drank deeply from his cup and Dean couldn’t help but notice the dark stain on his lips, the blood that colored his tongue.

“How do you get it?” he asked as he indicated the cup.

Ford set the cup on the table, his fingers twirling the stem of the dark colored wine glass.  “The same way doctors take blood.  It doesn’t store long that way, but we make do.  I don’t keep many vampires on the grounds, and we have more than enough humans who are willing to donate to earn extra favors.”

“They give blood for favors?”

“You know Jake from the motor crew?” Dean nodded as he continued to eat.  He’d never asked about the blood before but in the three months he’d been there he’d never seen anyone with an opened vein. 

“He’s marrying Maggie who runs the paperwork for me in the construction crew.  He asked if he could donate blood to get free time for a honeymoon.  They both did.”

“And you let them,” he said.  It wasn’t a question.  Ford wasn’t the monster most slave owners were. 

“I let him donate blood.  It seemed wrong to make them both do it, especially when we don’t need that much on a regular basis.  They’ll be at the Winchester House next week.  I figure I can’t let them off the property or someone will think they’ve run away, but they can have the house for a week as a reward for their service.”

Dean shook his head.  “Why do it?  Why give them anything extra when they’re just slaves?”

“No one deserves to be unhappy,” Ford said as he looked into his cup.  “No one deserves to live these lives.”

“Then why own slaves at all if you believe that?”

“I’m only a man,” he paused, scoffing at himself as he took the last drink from his glass.  He stood and walked away, looking out the window across the grounds.  “I’m not even that.  I’m something you hunt,” he said softly over his shoulder at Dean, “and as much as I hate what I’ve become, I can never be anything but what I am.”

Dean came up behind him.  He didn’t want to feel sympathy for the creature’s plight but he did.  Ford always managed to screw up his insides, to make him think and feel and do things he wouldn’t were it anyone else.  He tugged at something Dean couldn’t remember, something he wished to hell he’d forget.

“Enough of that,” Ford said softly.  “It’s time for bed.  You might have worked late but some of us were up early.”

Dean nodded, wondering if Ford had ever considered giving them their freedom.  He let himself be led to the bed, and sat on the edge.  Ford watched him for a second but then he was unbuttoning his shirt and sliding it off his shoulders.  Dean shook his head, pulling his own shirt off.  When he was stripped naked he climbed into the bed. 

When he closed his eyes, his imagination took him back to the Impala.  He could still feel it under his hands.  He remembered sleeping in the back seat with his brother snuggling against his side.  He could remember lying across the hood, sitting in the sun with Sammy resting his head on his thigh. 

He felt a body pressed against his back and he took a deep breath, tired from the day’s work, from the emotional toll working on the Impala caused him.  He was too tired to do anything more than stretch his limbs as a kiss was pressed to the base of his neck.

He closed his eyes and felt the curve of Ford’s body against him, felt the hard press of his cock rubbing over his skin, pressing into the back of his balls as he got the friction he needed.

“Dean,” the voice was so much lower than usual, the ever rough sound of it hitting Dean hard in the gut.  Ford’s hips thrust hard against him, quicker and Dean didn’t notice Ford’s hand moving from his hip until his fingers were brushing against his cock.  He moaned into it, his hips reacting on instinct, thrusting as those long strong fingers wrapped around him. 

“Oh god, Dean.”

He knew he should stop.  The voice, the need in it brought him back to who he was but he was tired and he needed so damn much to just get the hell off.  He let his head fall back, resting against the vampire’s shoulder as he let his body fall into the rhythm of the hand wrapped around him. 

A nip at his shoulder made him moan and he wondered how long it would be before he’d try that, before he’d ask for a vein.  He wasn’t sure he’d say no right now, if it meant he could go back to the Impala the next day, his own version of a reward for services rendered.

The thought jerking him away from the lazy acceptance he’d been offering and he tried to jerk up, but the arm over his hip was too strong, the grip on his cock never faltering as he tried to late to stop himself.  “No!” His body went tight as his orgasm ripped through him though, Ford milking him through the last breathless shudders.

Dean lay there, unable to think beyond his body’s betrayal.  It had all been a ploy, he knew it, he’d always understood that Ford was manipulating him little by little but he’d never once let himself give in to anything he asked just so he could receive those favors.  He never once meant to give in, only tonight he had.  A few moments of weakness and he’d let the vampire touch him, gave him the one thing he’d asked for every night since Dean had come into his possession. 

“Dean... ”

Dean pulled away from Ford, bringing his hands up over his head.  “Lock me up,” he demanded.

Ford’s hand cupped his cheek and though Dean tried to pull away from the touch the vampire’s strength was too much.  “Don’t do this.”

Dean pulled his face away and Ford let him.  He knew it was the vampire’s choice and damn how that stung but he couldn’t look at him now, not after this.   He turned his body away but kept his arms raised over his head, ready for the shackles.  “Lock my damn arms up.”

“Dean,” he said softly, his hand pulling Dean back towards him.  He fit perfectly in the curve of his master’s body and his hand ran down Dean’s side until it was resting gently on Dean’s hip.  “My love, I don’t need to keep you locked up anymore,” he whispered sadly.  “You’re mine now.”

The darkness of the room closed around him as he felt Ford’s damning words echo in his head.  He didn’t move his arms.  He held them tight over his head waiting for the shackles, even as he felt Ford’s tears against his skin.  He didn’t know vampires could cry.  He didn’t know he could anymore either, but when he felt Ford licking them away, his lips brushing Dean’s in solemn damnation, he could taste the salt from their combined tears and he knew he was broken.

Damn them all, they were both broken.  
  
 

 

 

  


 

“Why did you do it?”

All the candles had long gone out and Dean was still lying wide awake, Ford pressed into his side.  He didn’t know when his fight became forgiveness but he knew Ford was right.  He didn’t need the shackles to stay in the master’s bed any longer.

“Why did I do what?” he asked.

“Why did you leave your brother to die?”

He sat up immediately, twisting to look down at the vampire.  He felt his jaw clenching and he took a deep breath against the accusation.  Ford didn’t know him as well as he thought he did if he believed Dean could ever leave Sam.  “I didn’t.”

Ford snorted.  “Then what happened to your brother Dean?  What happened to “take care of Sammy”?  Or were you grateful to be rid of him when he left for Stanford?  Were you relieved when they hit California first and you knew he’d never make it out alive?”

“Don’t you dare fucking say that,” Dean hissed.  “I… Sammy made his choice.  He walked away and I didn’t have the choice to follow.  He-”   Dean shook his head.  “Fuck you!  You don’t have the right to ask me this.  What’s it to you anyway?  Just another doll for your collection right?”  He couldn’t stop the way his voice was rising and he pulled out of the bed, standing over his master with fists clenched.  “I went to California for him, I looked for him and he was gone.  It took me two months to get through to Stanford but I did and if they didn’t kill him in the first wave of attacks then my brother got out and he went so damn far underground no one ever saw him again.”

“You never went,” Ford’s gravelly voice assailed him.

“I was there for two years before I knew he had to be gone.  I kept looking, went to everyone we knew and he was just gone.”

Ford threw the covers off his body and he stood over Dean, pulling up to his full height, both rows of teeth bared as he stepped forward.  “Don’t lie to me Dean.  Not you.”

“I would never abandon my brother.”

The strike happened quicker than Dean could see, but when Ford’s fist connected with his jaw he was knocked backwards hard enough to land on his ass, tumbling back until his head hit the wall.  Ford was on top of him then, pulling him to his feet, one hand over his throat.  “Don’t you ever fucking lie to me again Dean.”

His world was starting to white out as Ford kept his fingers pressed to Dean’s throat, but then he was gone completely and Dean fell to the ground. 

“Jo!” Ford screamed out the open door.    

A minute later Jo came running back in, looking for anything like she’d been waiting for his call.  He wondered if she was.

“Master Ford?  Is he alright?” she started to walk towards him but Ford stopped her with a hand on her arm. 

“Go get Walker.”

“Master?  But-”

“Now Jo, or you’ll stand with him.”

Her eyes were wide, beseeching as she looked at Dean for one last second, and then she turned away from him and the room. 

Dean struggled back to his feet.  He had no idea who they were talking about but then again after three months he still didn’t know everyone by name and of those he knew, he had no clue what they did.  Jo told him once there were some people you didn’t want to know and Jess’s eyes had made him believe.  He thought, from that one glimpse of Jo’s fear, that Walker wasn’t someone he should take meeting lightly.

A pair of light sleep pants were thrown at him and Ford stared down at him with eyes that seemed even colder through the mask now.  He hated the goddamn thing, wanted to know what Ford looked like without it, what the real shape of his eyes were, how the bow of his mouth looked when it wasn’t half hidden but even without the mask there would have been nothing of warmth in the vampire.  “Get dressed.  At least you can meet Gordon like a man and not the sniveling coward you are.”

He pulled on the pants, not because of Ford but because Ford’s words made him realize he was still naked inside the master’s rooms and he didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.  He leaned back against the wall at that thought, knees to his chest, closing his eyes, because what the hell was the wrong idea?  That he’d become his master’s lover?  Even if they hadn’t had intercourse, there had been enough intimacy tonight to make that claim.  That he’d given himself willingly?  He had.  The fleeting moment when he’d remembered that he should be fighting had been too late and when Ford had claimed a kiss from his lips after, he’d been too weak to hold onto it.  He’d opened to his master as easily as the skies open for rain. 

The door pressed open and another man came walking in.  He wore jeans and a simple dark tee shirt, standard clothes on the farm, but at his belt was a whip.  Gordon Walker handed Ford two leather straps and then Ford was looking back at Dean.  Dean looked up at Jo and he could see it in her eyes.  This was why he didn’t know the man, he’d never been sent for punishment and punishment on the farm meant one of two things, a bleeding or a whipping. 

He closed his eyes, praying Ford wouldn’t give him the choice.  He wasn’t strong enough tonight to say what he needed to say.

“I want him bleeding, Walker,” Ford said as he walked over to Dean.  Above his head were two metal rings fastened to the wall.  He’d never asked what they were for.  He didn’t need to now as Ford looped the leather straps through.  “Stand up, slave.”

Jo was at his side, hands pulling him up when what he really wanted to do was throw up.  Slave.  After everything was said and done, after the seduction had finally succeeded, Ford was finally reminding him of his place.  He let out a short hysterical laugh and Jo gripped his arm tighter.

“Please, Dean, come on.”

He stood with her help, then felt as Ford turned him around, wrapping a wrist in the loop he’d created.  He pulled it tight and Dean had to bite his lip to keep from saying anything stupid. 

Jo was still there though, her eyes wide and fearful, no matter how much she lost her temper she’d never really hurt him.  This though, Ford meant him to hurt.

His other hand was pulled up into the loop and he didn’t try to fight it.  He could taste blood dripping onto his lip, his nose bleeding from Ford’s fist and he looked over his shoulder as Jo was called away. 

Ford stood just behind Walker, the dark skinned man smiled and he could see the perfect white teeth, nothing vampiric about him.  The smile was pure malice and if he’d had fangs Dean was sure he’d be sporting them, trying to intimidate Dean.

“Tell me the truth Dean,” Ford said from behind the other man, “and this can all be forgiven.”

Dean snorted as he stood up straighter, taking a deep breath as he rolled his shoulders.  He looked back at them again, “You can tell him to do his worst.  I never gave up on Sammy.  I will never give up on him.”

“Ford…”

“Leave Jo,” he said coldly.

“He’s not-”

He had his hand around her throat before she could say anything else.

“Leave her alone!” Dean screamed from his bonds.  “You got a problem with me you take it out on my hide but you leave Jo the hell alone!  You fucked her up enough already you take this out on my ass!”

Ford’s eyes turned to Dean, then back to Jo.  Her eyes were pleading but he walked to the door and pushed her out.  When it was closed behind him, he came back over to stand behind Dean, whispering in his ear like he was speaking sweet nothings.  “Tell me why you left him to die and I’ll let you go.”

“Just get it over with.  I’m tired of listening to you talk.”

Ford backed off then and Dean just turned back to the wall.  He used his legs to brace himself for what was to come, even knowing he couldn’t.  Not really.  He knew how to handle pain, knew how to assimilate it and how to accept it, but the first few strokes always hurt. 

“I want him bloody, but not scarred,” Ford said loud enough for him to hear.  “He won’t be much use to me if I can’t see the original scars.”

There was nothing else, but Dean could feel the change in the air, the anticipation of the man behind him and the anger in the other.  He felt the whip come close to skin, not touching, but enough to leave a sting as it sliced through the air next to him.  He’d had enough whippings in the early days to know you didn’t have to get hit to get hurt.  He had a feeling he’d feel more than a little tonight though. 

His earlier beatings had all been about humiliation and proving authority.  When he’d learned to cover himself, to keep out of trouble, they’d stopped completely.  No one had been out to hurt him, to see his blood running in rivers to the floor.  Not until tonight anyway.

The first crack came across the top of his shoulders and he stumbled forward with the blow, letting out a stream of curses. 

“Tell me the truth.”

“I never left Sammy.”

The second crack hit his lower back and he could already feel the blood trickling down to pool at the waistband of his pants.

“Tell me the truth.”

He let out a small sob because he could say the lie so easily, but he’d given in so much tonight, so many small, easy little moments, and he’d betrayed himself completely.  He couldn’t betray his brother, couldn’t betray that memory, not for anything.

“I never left Sammy.”

It continued until he’d lost count.  Every time the whip cracked Ford would ask for the truth and he would answer the same.  He was sobbing and he didn’t care if they could hear it.  His chest heaved, lungs struggling for breath, legs on the verge of collapse.

“Tell me the truth.”

Blood dripped down his thighs and calves, the floor was pooled with it already.  He had a brief wonder if Ford would lick him clean later.  It didn’t matter.  He could suck every bit of blood left, sink his teeth in and drink him dry.  Sam was gone, for all that Dean had searched.  Sam was gone and he was broken, just another slave in a pen full of worthless skin and bones.

“I never left Sammy,” he sobbed again because the truth was never harder to stomach, never harder to admit than it was now, hanging from the vampire’s hooks when he could have so easily just gone to ground himself instead of looking for his family.  “I never left him.  Sammy left me.”

He didn’t hear the gasp behind him, didn’t realized the next lash hadn’t fallen.  His legs had collapsed under him, the weight of his confession too much to bear. 

When he realized he wasn’t being struck again, there were hands on his body, Jo holding him as Ford reached up and undid the loops holding his wrists.  He didn’t remove the loops from the wall and Dean wondered if that was for next time, but he couldn’t voice his question.

The room was silent as Jo practically dragged him to the bed.  He couldn’t breathe as he moved, Jo’s arm around his waist pressing into his wounds.  He looked up and realized someone had covered the bed with thick blankets and sheets before he was set across those on his stomach.  He felt a hand at the base of his neck, strong and firm, fingers knotting in his hair before letting go.  He sobbed at the loss of contact and then again because he felt anything at all about it.

“Clean him up Jo,” Ford’s voice was as wrecked as Dean felt but all he could do was watch as the vampire left the room without looking back.

 

 

 

 

The medic had come up and looked at Dean, caring for him while Jo sat at his side, fingers combing through his hair to sooth him.  Ford had left orders that he wasn’t to be given pain killers, but the doctor gave him a shot to make sure no infection set in over night.  He bandaged the wounds and told them both that he needed to take them off in the morning and let them breathe a while.  He’d be back the next night to put more bandages on him for sleeping.

It was just the two of them then, Dean on his stomach, his arms under his head as Jo lay beside him, her cheek resting on his one forearm and stroking his hair silently.

“So this is the monster you’re so willing to follow?”

“He’s not a monster, Dean, you know that.”

“I don’t know anything Jo.  What he just did to me?  That was a monster.”

“You don’t know him Dean.  As much as you watch and observe people, the way you charm, but you weren’t there.  Ford’s always had a nasty temper, but there is nothing in this world that bothers him more than the fate of Sam Winchester.”

Dean looked up then, ignoring the pain that shot up his spine.  “You know what happened to Sam?”

She looked at him, tears in her eyes.  “Yeah Dean, I do.  I thought,” she took a deep breath.  “I thought you knew.”

“Tell me.”

“It’s not a happy story Dean.”

“Jo, I have to know.”

She nodded, then sat up on the bed, her eyes looking out over the room and he was grateful for that small kindness.  He wasn’t gonna want to hear about this and she was giving him what privacy she could.  Her finger started running through his hair again though and he was beginning to think it soothed her as much as it did him.

“In the first few days, no one knew what was happening.  The majority of the people wouldn’t listen to the news reports and those that did were suddenly crazy, taking to staking anything that looked at them funny.  There was a lot of shooting and killing that didn’t need to be done.  Sam was at Stanford when the Vampire Revolution began, and by the time most of the world was figuring out the truth, Sam had a bus load of friends he was taking out of the state.  It wasn’t easy.  The vampires controlled the roads and the border right from the start.  They set up traps for people coming in and out and even though Sam could have gotten himself and maybe a few people out he wouldn’t leave anyone behind.”

“He always had too big a heart,” Dean said softly.

“Don’t know where he got that,” Jo answered back with a little tug of her fingers.  “He started taking ‘em through a couple at a time but they were only about half way through when someone got spooked.  Thought Sam was gonna leave her and her daughter to the monsters.  She started screaming and all hell broke loose.  Sam yelled for everyone to run and they did.  Sam and a handful of others stayed though, killed a good half dozen vampires before they realized they had two real live hunters on their hands.”

“You were there?” Dean didn’t look up, couldn’t because he knew the pain in her eyes before and he couldn’t look at it again, not if she’d seen his brother die.

“Yeah.  Mom had to go to California to help out a friend and I went with her.  She was real big on me going to college and all.  She didn’t want me to be a hunter that was for sure, so she dropped me off at Stanford, thinking maybe I’d find some guys there … maybe see what I was missing.  I ran into Sam right away.  So I was there when all hell broke loose.”

“He was,” she took a deep breath, “I don’t know if I can describe it.  He was everything.  He was everywhere.  Sam held us all together.  He organized supplies and got transportation when it was safe enough to travel.  He armed everyone, told them what they were really up against.  We just weren’t enough though.  When the vampires found us,” she shook her head, “there were just too many of them.”

Her fingers bit into his scalp and Dean brought a hand up to caress her wrist.  It wasn’t much but it was as much comfort as he had to offer.  “They didn’t turn us then.  Sam was fighting like a madman and Jess was there, his beautiful girl.  She refused to run and leave him when the others did.  They only took five of us, killed the rest right there in front of us.”

“He managed to kill another two vampires while they were trying to take us to their master.  They tortured him for it, made him watch while they turned me.  We were both from hunting families though, we knew how it all worked and they seemed to realize that even though I was only seventeen, I wasn’t gonna break like that.  Jess though,” her voice broke quietly, “Jess couldn’t stop herself.  They started feeding off her.  They kept at it for days, just enough to make her weak but never enough to kill.  She started screaming whenever they came in the room.  We tried to protect her, to hide her, but we couldn’t do anything, and I was…” 

“You were freshly turned.”

“I could smell the blood pumping through her veins and I wanted it so much.  Sam stopped me.”

“You killed him.”

“No, they stopped me before I could,” she whispered, “but I bled him good first.  He never blamed me for it.  Reminded me over and over how he’d pulled me in close, holding my head against his neck knowing what I had to do.  He did it to save Jess.  She was already too weak.  She almost died anyway, when they cut out her tongue.”

“Jesus.”

“She never stopped crying, but she couldn’t scream anymore.  They took her blood, raped her, and left Sam chained to the wall through it all.  It only took two months for humanity to give up on itself, to let the vampires rip it to shreds, but it took six months before anyone came along and said that we were casualties of war, slaves now bound to the service of cruel masters.  They never turned him.  I think they knew what he’d be like if they did, his anger and his vengeance would have destroyed them.  They put him on the block instead.  Jess stayed with me.  With Sam gone, they stopped tormenting her but she could never let anyone else touch her again.  For years she was just a shell of a person.”

Jo stood up, walking to the window to stare out across the grounds.  “I wasn’t there for the next part but he was sold on the auction block to a former hunter.  She blamed him for something that happened to her family, blamed him because he was a Winchester so she took him home and tortured him too.  She didn’t keep him long before passing him on.  I was on the block at that point as well.  The vampires turned me but they didn’t want anyone still sympathetic to the human cause in their midst.  So we were united again.  We were both worried about Jess, but there was nothing we could do about it.  Our Master back then though, he was the worst sort of monster.  I won’t talk about the things he did, Dean, I still don’t have the strength but as rogues, you know how they treat us,” she smiled over her shoulder at him. 

He knew, it was why he’d hidden himself so completely when he’d been on the block.  A lot of people wanted to hurt a hunter.  A lot of vampires wanted to do more than just hurt them.  They wanted to break them in the worst possible way.

“We lived under the worst conditions, little food, no shelter.  Freeze in the winter.  They had vamps and humans and even though he gave the humans something to eat, he never fed us,” she said with a scoff.  “We were beaten for killing his slaves and beaten if we didn’t eat enough to work.  Sam and I, we watched each other’s backs.  He … he fed me and I made sure the other vampires left him alone.  The owners though, they never let up.  What they did to him all those times they took him up to the main house, I don’t know, but he always came back bloody, beaten and still defiant.  He never stopped fighting, Dean.  And when it got too much, when he finally snapped?  I’m sure you’ve heard the story.  We were in Cold Oaks, South Dakota.”

“Cold Oaks?  The Muel Rebellion?”

“Sam didn’t do anything half assed,” she said with pride.  “They toyed with him for a long time, but they finally went too far.  It was brutal.  They … they forced him to open a vein.  He never, except to keep me alive, he never did it. They were ripping him apart.  He should have died that day.  They asked if he was willing to turn and he just kept saying no.  They did it anyway.”

“It took him a long time to recover from that.  They… he was weak from everything they did to him and they left him alone in a room with two other slaves.  There was no way for him to stop himself.  When you first come out of it, you’re just an animal, not human enough to make that sort of choice.  He never forgot the people he killed.  He never forgave himself or the masters for making him do it.” 

“They never stopped tormenting him though.  He healed better, quicker after that, but it just kept getting worse.  Then on day he just, had enough.  He came back from the main house and he had a plan.  That night they were having a party and Sam pulled all the human servants out before locking the vampires in the house.  He set the whole thing on fire.  Any that were strong enough to crawl out, he was waiting.” 

“What happened to him after that Jo?”

She looked out the window again and he felt his heart sink.  “They called it the Samuel Rebellion at first, but the local authorities didn’t want Sam to be remembered as a hero, or a martyr so they slurred the name enough that people would think it was the real name.  Sam, after that, he curled up and died.  He said he was the monster they’d made him.  When the local hunters came looking, he slipped away from us and he went riding out to meet them.  He never came back.”

Her eyes were haunted as she looked back at him.  “I’m sorry, Dean.  Even if Ford doesn’t, can’t see that you’re speaking the truth, I can.  I remember how you used to look out for him.  He used to tell me you were out there somewhere and it was just a matter of time.  He never gave up on you, Dean.  He just … gave up on living after that.”

Dean nodded, not bothering to hold back the tears in his eyes.  He’d asked for the story and now he knew.  It was worse than he’d hoped, but not as bad as some of his fears.  Sam had been with Jo and Jess through it, he wasn’t alone all that time.

“What about Ford?  Why does Sam’s fate bother him so much?”

She looked at him for a minute and shook her head, tears forming once again.  “Their stories aren’t all that different.”

“He knew my brother.”  It wasn’t a question.  Somehow, Ford had met Sam, he knew it. 

Jo looked down.  “He doesn’t collect the Winchester family as a hobby.  He collects it out of love and that love had to start somewhere.”

Dean shook his head, unable to comprehend it all.  It was too much to take in and the adrenaline that was letting him deal with the pain and Jo’s news had left him.  He dropped his head back to the pillow and Jo came over, kissing the top of his head.  “I’m so sorry Dean.  I’ll …” she paused as tears clogged her voice.  “I’ll be back in the morning to help you get cleaned up.”

 

 

 

  


 

 

He woke slowly the next morning, his body on fire every time he tried to stretch.  He hated back injuries with a passion.  He just hoped Ford didn’t plan on making him work with the construction crew again.  Hell, he thought bitterly, for the enjoyment Ford got last night, he should be able to work on the Impala for a fucking year.

He heard the door open and close and the smell of bacon let him know breakfast had arrived.  Part of him was hungry, but then he thought about the rest of the night, pushing past the pain of the whipping and his failure to escape from his master, and he had no appetite.  He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  “Damn it Sammy, I tried,” he said softly.

He kept his head buried in the pillow a while longer, letting his tears run dry.  What the hell was he supposed to do now?  All his life he’d looked after his brother, even when Sam didn’t want it.  That was his job.  He’d never stopped asking for his brother, never stopped hoping he’d find his brother’s tracks after all those years, but now it was at an end. 

He sat up slowly, forcing his legs over the edge of the bed.  He didn’t know how to go on without his underlying mission, without that one directive in his life.  “What the fuck do I do now, Sammy?”

 “Eat Dean.”

Dean stood up, spinning around as he looked across the room at Ford.  The vampire was never there in the mornings.  He slept in Dean’s bed for a few hours each night, then woke and went back to work, taking to bed as the morning sun came up.  He normally wasn’t seen around the house until mid-afternoon.

“I’m not hungry,” he said softly. 

“Is this because you’re mad that I punished you for-”

Dean couldn’t take it.  He snapped, not knowing or caring which part of the night’s events caused it.  “It’s because I fucking care!” he yelled, closing the distance between them.  He pushed Ford’s shoulders and the vampire took a step back in surprise.  “It’s because he was my brother and he fucking died!  He died and I fucking … he never broke and I … he was waiting for me you son of a bitch and I couldn’t get to him and fuck you and -” his legs gave out but he never hit the floor.  Ford had an arm around his waist, gently leading him back to bed.

Ford disappeared for a few minutes and came back with the doctor a minute later.  A shot to the arm and Dean was relaxing a minute later.  Ford lay down beside him, his heat a calm, familiar comfort against the pain and he soaked it up while he could. 

“Sleep, my love,” Ford whispered in his ear, “we’ll talk when you’re better.”

The pain medicine kicked in about then and in his relief he didn’t even care that the man who owned him, the man who’d been responsible for beating him, was curled protectively around him.

 

 

 

 

Ford was awake when Dean opened his eyes.  He was lying on his side, one hand gently trailing up and down Dean’s side, carefully navigating away from the painful areas.  He wanted to pull away, but his body hurt and he wasn’t about to start moving. 

“Take it easy,” Ford’s voice was calm and quiet as if he feared Dean would run. 

Dean wanted to laugh at that but he didn’t think he had the energy to.

“I can get the doctor back up for some pain killers.”

“Why bother?  You went to all that effort to hurt me, I should feel it right?”

Ford looked down, but his hand never stopped stroking Dean’s side.  “Jo believes you.  She thinks you went to California looking for your brother.”

“You still don’t.”

“I have a hard time being objective when it comes to you.  I can see it in Jess’s eyes as well, the way she watches you.  She doesn’t think you’re lying either.”

“You talked to her about it?”

He nodded.  “She came to see you earlier.  Jo also.  They aren’t talking to me now,” he said with a snort.  “They think I went too far last night.  Jess thinks I should have bled you if I didn’t believe you.  I can’t tell.  I’m not objective enough anymore but she said they can all tell now.  You hid it so damn well in the pens, but here, they know.”

Dean looked up, aware of what Ford was talking about suddenly.  “I hid what?’

Ford’s fingers went to the mangled scars on Dean’s neck, the mark that could have been a vampire’s teeth.  “You did this to keep them from looking at you too closely, but you’ve never been bled have you?”

Dean lay his head back down on his arms and closed his eyes.  There was no way to deny it now.  If they’d scented him out they knew.  “No,” he said as he stretched, letting the long line of his neck lay open for his master’s teeth.

“What are you doing, Dean?”

“It’s what you wanted, right?  A tame Winchester on your leash?  Someone to sink your cock and fangs into?”

“Why now?  You hate me right now.”

Dean scoffed, but he never moved from that spot.  “Why not?”

“What changed last night?  You should be railing against me right now.”

He gritted his teeth as he opened his eyes and stared at the monster in his bed.  His monster.  “It was all for him, don’t you get it?  I was fighting to get to him, to escape because he could still be out there, I had to keep trying but … Jo … last night,” he felt his whole body tense with the words he was trying to say.  “If he’s dead I don’t have any reason to fight.  None of it fucking matters if I failed him that bad.”

“Jesus, you really mean it.”

His disbelief, the surprise and awe he saw in those eyes made him turn away again, closing his own shut against the tears that wanted to rise again.  He didn’t look up as the bed shifted, used to Ford and the way his moods seemed to shift so completely.   

“I’ll have Jessica or Jo come look in on you.  And the doctor will be back with the pain killers.”

 

 

 

 

It took two weeks to heal well enough that the doctor cleared him for regular activities and in all that time Ford stayed clear of him.  If he ever came into his room it was while Dean was asleep and the others didn’t mention him.  Dean thought it was on orders and Jess’s small smile confirmed it. 

When he was allowed to go back to his previous routine he did so without the leash.  Jess walked with him, watched him work out and directed him to the Impala when he was done.  When he asked her where Ford wanted him working afterwards, she pressed his hands back onto the metal of the car and he didn’t know if he should be grateful to have his hands back on the Impala or if he should be ashamed that he’d won the right by giving in to his body’s need.  He didn’t let himself think about the other option, that this was Ford’s way of atoning for the whipping, but it lingered in the back of his mind anyway.  Jess, with her sad smile, seemed to be pushing for the third. 

Jess kept him company that night at dinner as well, but he was aware that he’d seen Jo off and on all day, always walking behind the tall figure of their master.  She’d never hovered like that before and it made him worry.

He wasn’t sure he could say he liked the creature, but there was something to be admired in the way he did things, even if he wasn’t able to settle himself around Dean.  It didn’t make sense, no matter how he tried to reconcile it.  Why had he looked so hard for Dean, if he simply wanted revenge for leaving Sam behind?  Why seduce him when he could have broken his mind a long time ago with sheer pain and determination?

Ford was a mystery and he figured he always would be.  It didn’t help that when he closed his eyes, Dean dreamed of his strong hands pulling him tight against his body and those sharp biting kisses against the back of his neck.

He went to bed alone again that night, staring up at the ceiling until full dark had fallen.  He heard the door open and a faint hope crept into his heart.  He kept himself perfectly still and he heard the telltale sounds of someone undressing.  The bed dipped behind him but he wasn’t touched. 

“I want to be here,” Ford said softly, “and I’m asking.  I’m not that kind of monster, Dean.”

Dean closed his eyes and shook his head.  He couldn’t say all the things that were running through his head so he just sighed.  “Go to sleep.”

Hands pulled him close then, settling him into the curve of his master’s body and one hand was settled possessively on his hip as Ford breathed against his neck. 

Dean let out a deep breath as his whole body relaxed.  He didn’t let himself think of his brother or punishments or betrayal.  He simply let it all go and found himself sleeping peacefully for the first time in years.

 

 

 

 “I hear the Rogues are acting up again.”

“Sage lost his entire stock to them two months ago.  Woke up in the morning and found his overseer staked to his lashing pole with his head on a pike.”

“The government doesn’t seem to be taking it too seriously.”

Dean walked further away from the conversation until he was against the far wall.  It wasn’t that he didn’t want the latest news about the rogues, but he had far too hard a time keeping a smile from his face when he heard things like that.  It was good to know that the hunters were still out there, still fighting to free the human race from the tyranny of the vampires.  Maybe once they managed that, they’d find a way to get them free of the human problem as well.  How they could do that, he didn’t know, but maybe once the vampire threat was no more, they’d find a way to unite mankind against the slavery that they’d so readily agreed to when there had been nothing but fear and the threat of real annihilation. 

Dean sighed heavily.  God he hated these parties and the social niceties he was expected to perform there.  He’d never really been fond of them, but playing nice with a bunch of slave owners who wanted to faun over Master Ford was more than he could stomach for long.  He’d always been a possessive bastard and even if Ford had been keeping a comfortable distance between them most of the time, Dean still knew how far he’d fallen and he was nothing if not Ford’s.  It wasn’t all that difficult, he discovered since his brother was gone, transferring ownership from him to Ford. 

In bed at night, when Ford held him close, there were nights he wanted to ask the vampire for more, where he wanted to be closer.  He thought of Sam and Jo and how she’d fed from him to keep her from starving and he wanted to be able to give that to Ford, but he couldn’t.  Somewhere deep inside, he couldn’t give that last part of himself.  Perhaps it had been the earlier taunts about which Dean would hate the most, but Ford seemed to have known even back then that those two things were what would break him.  Now that it was done, now that he’d accepted his place at Ford’s side, if not the mantle of slave because he still believed it was his choice to remain where he was, he wasn’t able to say the words that would close that distance.  And since the day Dean had offered him his neck, Ford had never so much as touched it again.

Jo walked over to him, resting one arm against his chest as she smiled up at him.  “He thinks you’re going to bite.” 

Dean looked over to the young slave owner that was talking to Ford and he couldn’t help but notice the smirk in Ford’s eyes as he saw Dean watching them. 

“You have half of them convinced you’ve been turned.”

He let out a bark of laughter at that and Jo laughed with him.  “So sue me.  I’ve always been…”

“Jealous?”

“Territorial.”

“Should I introduce you, up close and personal?” she asked.

He shook his head.  “I think I’ve had enough for one party,” he said as he sat down the wine glass.  God he hated the stuff.  He’d have to see if he could get some beer from the kitchen on the way back to their room.  He looked up and caught Master Ford’s eyes and gestured towards the door, knowing there’d be hell to pay if he didn’t get at least some sort of permission before leaving.  Ford gave him free run of his days mostly, but he demanded appearances be kept up and Dean could understand the need for that.

Ford looked at him for a second, that smirk appearing again as if he knew what Dean found so unpalatable tonight, then gave a nod in acknowledgement.  His companion looked over at Dean and Dean gave his most menacing smile.  The slave owner took a step back and Ford’s eyes grew brighter even as he schooled his face to keep from grinning.

Dean walked back to the manor house, grateful for the cool night breeze.  He made his way to the kitchen and sent the staff off for the night, telling them he’d take care of anything should Ford need it.  Dean didn’t think Ford could’ve cared less about the having slaves around him, so long as he had Dean, Jess, and Jo with him.  Everything else was about appearances and power, keeping himself strong enough to be without fear.

Dean could understand that.

He rooted around in the refrigerator and found a bottle of the beer he liked and opened it up, taking a long pull as he leaned against the counter.

“There are some people that think Ford managed to tame a hunter,” a hard voice said from the kitchen doorway.  Dean didn’t do anything as the woman took a few steps into the kitchen, just took another pull from the bottle. 

He could see the second row of teeth she flashed him and part of him feared her, feared what he knew she could smell from him, but he knew Ford’s protection would last here, that she wouldn’t dare to take blood without being offered, not without Ford’s permission.  

“You might be good at fooling everyone else, but you are still a hunter,” her long blond hair fell in straight plaits over her shoulders and as she pushed it back she revealed a body that he would have been more than willing to sink himself into once upon a time. 

“You can take the man out of the hunt,” Dean said, trying to be noncommittal.  He had no idea who she was or what game she was playing.

“But they’ll never take the hunt out of Dean Winchester,” She said softly, a cruel smile on her lips.  “My name is Ruby and I have an offer for you.”

“Really?  What does a free vampire like yourself think you can offer a slave?”

“Freedom,” She whispered it as she stepped closer, her fingers gliding across his chest in an all too familiar fashion. She didn’t know him and she’d obviously misread his interactions with Ford if she thought freedom was something he needed her to give him.

He took another drink from the bottle before looking her in the eye though. 

“I’m listening.”

“Ford has something I want and in exchange for it, I’ll give you something to win back your freedom, something that will force him to give you that freedom, no more running, no more hiding, legitimate freedom.”

“Keep talking.”

“He has a weapon.  It used to belong to a hunter and it’s something along the lines of my own collection.  In exchange I’ll give you some information about Ford.”

“What makes you think I know where Ford would keep any weapons?”

“Because you’re a hunter Dean.”

He smiled because she wasn’t wrong about that.  Dean had never been shown where Ford kept his weapons stash, but he had one and Dean knew right where it was.  Including knowing where he kept the special items and the ways to get into everything.   “Alright.  I’ll show you were he keeps the weapons, and then you’ll tell me what you know.”

He wanted to strike out against the oily smile she gave him but he just smiled back with a feral smile of his own.  There had been times in the past when he’d have jumped at the idea of getting his freedom back, but that was in the days when he’d been fighting for his liberty.  He understood now that with or without the collar, he belonged to Ford.  It wasn’t a matter of paper or rights, but by bond now and even if he’d been manipulated the whole way, Ford had taken great pains to care for him.  Their bond was in blood and tears and too much else between them that Dean never fully understood but trusted.  He could never break that bond.   

He led the vampire up the stairs and into the master’s private office next door to their bedroom.  He walked in first, placing himself between her and anything she might be able to get her hands on.  It was all behind lock and key, but Dean didn’t trust her.

“They’re all here.  See what you like?” 

She did, but it was behind enough protective layers that even vampiric strength couldn’t break it.  “The Colt?  What do you want with it?”  He asked softly.

Ruby smiled.  “I just want to unleash a little hell.”

He wasn’t sure if she was joking or not, but he knew he wasn’t going to let her walk out of there with the weapon no matter what she told him.

“Now it’s your turn.  What do you have to tell me?”

Ruby leaned against the edge of Ford’s desk, giving him a fair shot of her long legs.  He gave an appreciative glance and her eyes darkened when he let her catch him.

“Let’s begin this like all really good fairytales, shall we?”

“Does it have a catchy name?”

“What?”

“You know, the best stories have the best names.”

She smirked at him.  “It has the best name.  The Fall of House Winchester.”

Dean’s hands clenched into fists but he took a deep breath, wanting her to say whatever it was so he could take care of it.

“Once upon a time, there was a vampire and he loved everything to do with the House Winchester.  He was obsessed with the family history and made quite a nuisance of himself trying to regain artifacts from before their fall.  He was so obsessed with it he even fabricated charges against another vampire who had been responsible for the eldest Winchester’s death, giving him a reason to challenge him.”

Dean bit his lip to keep from saying anything.  He knew Ford had killed the vampire that had almost taken John but he’d never guessed that he did it because of his father’s death. 

“He turned the vampire’s slaves out, gave freedom to the ones that could still function in society and sent the others to the block and kept everything in his possession, even a very special gun, and he wouldn’t talk of selling it.”

He understood why she was coming to him then.  She thought Ford’s collection would haunt Dean, that he’d take great pains to rub his wounds in the salt his memories had created, but Ford had never collected it out of a need to destroy and that was something she didn’t understand.  He looked out the window to the old house where the others were, where his master was.  He could see some of them coming back but the party was still in full swing.

“It took a long time and a lot of digging but with some perseverance, another vampire was able to trace his origins.  And what that vampire found was the most startling secret of all.  The slave owner, this Master Vampire that so many feared, was nothing more than a slave himself.  He rebelled and ran and when he showed his face again no one recognized him, because of a mask.”

He turned sharply to look at her.  “You’re saying-”

“Ford isn’t a master vampire at all.  He’s just an escaped slave from the Muel Rebellion.  Give me the Colt, Dean, and you can get him to give you your freedom.  He’ll hand the papers over and then you can report him when you are well and free of his powers.”

Everything shifted in Dean’s head and he wanted nothing more than to get the hell out, to find Ford and drag him back to his room and make him talk but he couldn’t yet.  He stilled his thoughts and looked up at the vampire in front of him.  One threat at a time.

He let out a shaky breath as he leaned down, his fingers working at the safe dial with a surety that came from nights spent cracking it.   “Why tell me and not one of the others?’

“I’ve seen the way they dote on him,” she sneered, “but he watches you, waiting to see what you’ll do.  He took the leash off but he has no idea what you’ll do next.  You’re still a hunter and he’s still a monster and I see the way you look around the room cataloging entrances and exits, assessing threats.”

He straightened up, checking to see if the Colt had a bullet in the chamber as he stood.  “You probably should have watched a little closer,” he said as he smiled at her.  “I was checking threats against him.”  He brought the Colt up and pulled the trigger without hesitation.

He watched as the bullet impacted and the shock of Ruby’s expression as something like lightening licked her face, turning her features to ash.

He heard footsteps running down the hall and it was Jo and two of the guys from the motor crew that came running in.  He looked up at Jo.  “Where is Ford?”

“At the old house.  Dean, what happened?”

“The legend was right.  The Colt will kill any evil sons of bitches.”

He didn’t look back as he handed her the gun, running out of the manor and to the other property.  The party was still going but as Dean came charging in, Ford must have seen something in his face because he immediately excused himself. 

Dean didn’t wait, but walked away.  He didn’t have anyplace else to go, didn’t think anyplace was safe so he went to the only port he’d ever had in a storm.  He pulled the barn door open and went inside, pulling the cover off the Impala and just sat there, his hands resting on the hood as he waited for Ford to find him.

It took him a few minutes and he knew why.  He knew how things worked around the farm well enough.  “Dean?”  Ford asked as he stepped into the darkness.  “What the hell happened?  Jo said you killed a free vampire.  Do you have any idea what will happen when that gets out?  They’ll demand your head!”

“She wanted me to blackmail you.”

“What?”

“Who the hell are you, Ford?” Dean demanded as he turned around to face him.

Ford stopped in his tracks, his mouth hanging open for a second before it turned up into a thin hard line, the vampire steeling himself for whatever he was going to say next. 

“Don’t.  I never lied to you, don’t lie to me now.”

“What did she tell you?” he asked quietly.

“That you’re a slave.”  Dean said as Ford came over next to him.  The master crawled up on the hood of the Impala like he belonged there and Dean had to shake away the thought.  He did belong there.  “That you’re just a run away from the Muel Rebellion.”

“In exchange for?”

“The Colt.  It works, by the way.”

Ford nodded.  “It’s always good to know.”

“She didn’t know it all though, did she?”  Dean asked.  “She would never have come to me of all people if she had.”  He reached up, touching Ford’s mask but the vampire caught his wrist before he could remove it.

“I am what I am, Dean.  You know me better than anyone, you always have.  If you take this away, you can’t put it back on and forget what you see.  You can’t just forget the things I’ve done.  The things I’ve done to you and that I still want to do.”

Dean took a deep breath, looking into the other man’s eyes.  He had to see.  He already knew the truth and hiding behind the mask wouldn’t change that.  The reason he’d fallen so completely into Ford, the reason he knew how to break Dean so completely, was that he’d always had that power over Dean.

“Take the mask off, Sammy.”

  He clenched his fists at the choked sob that came from his brother’s throat but he needed to step back and take it all in.

It took a minute for Sam to undo the mask and Dean let out a jagged breath as he looked at his brother for the first time since the fateful night he left for Stanford.  He’d grown taller, maybe two or three inches even since then.  His shoulders were broader, his muscles better developed than the boy who’d left them behind.  His eyes were harder in ways, but at that moment there were tears spilling down his face.  There were more lines now, pain and fear had etched themselves into his face but nothing marred the beauty.  It was only his neck, where the vampires had turned him that showed the terrible torture he’d been through.

His fingers reached out, touching the scar and Sam’s breath caught in his throat.  “When they first turned me, they thought I just might be mute,” he said quietly.  “It took three months of healing before I could speak and it never got better than this,” The voice that he heard was completely different than his brother’s had even been.  Deeper, rougher because of what the vampires had done. 

“I like it,” Dean admitted as he stepped closer, his fingers moving over his brother’s strong shoulders before finally pulling him close. 

He felt Sam’s tears against his throat, felt the way his arms tightened around him and it was all dizzying;   the memories of holding Sam tight as a child, of sleeping next to him in the back seat as they got older, of wrestling and sparring in abandoned fields across the US, of nights spent in his arms, tangled together as master and slave. 

He pushed away suddenly, bitterly.   “Why?  Why didn’t you tell me?”  Sam looked down at his hands and he could feel the shame in his brother.  “Jesus, Jess knew.  Jo too.  They all knew.”

“Only Jo and Jess.”

“It’s why Jo gets so upset with me sometimes.”

Sam nodded.  “The way Ellen reacted when she found out about Jo, the rejection and fear Jo felt, she’s never been good at wondering where she stands with me.  When I put you in my room she understood I needed to keep you close.  When you told her… explained my … intentions … she didn’t know how to react.”

“Why did you let me think you were dead?”

“I thought you’d left me to die.  I thought … there you were Dean, alive and on that goddamned block and I thought you’d figured it out all those years ago, what I wanted from you and you were just glad to be rid of me.”

“I never stopped looking.”

Sam looked up, a half smile on his face.  “Yeah, I figured that out.”

“Before or after you had Walker whip me?”

“During.  As much as the others were willing to indulge in my obsessions, no one ever called me on it.  You were the first person to remind me that I was the one that walked out.  You were right.  As hurt as I was that night that you didn’t try to stop Dad, it was my choice and I walked away from you.  I’ve been looking for you ever since though.”

Dean nodded because he didn’t have any other words.

“I thought, for a while, that maybe with the mask, I could make this work.  I could make you want me the way I’d always wanted you and I could make you pay for your part in what happened to me, but then you … “

Dean sighed as he crawled up on the hood beside his brother.  “I broke.”

“I never thought anyone could do it.  I knew it wasn’t your fault that I’d lived through what I did but I just couldn’t stop thinking that if you’d been there, it wouldn’t have happened.  And then… I never thought I could do it.”

Dean took in the hunch of his shoulders and the remorse of his voice and he knew Sam was being honest.  He knew Sam, he knew Ford, and both parts of his brother had been trying to keep Dean close the only way he could.

He reached over and cupped his brother’s chin, making him face Dean.  “You were the only one that could.”

He didn’t think about it, but closed the distance between them, pressing his lips to Sam’s.  His brother opened to him and his arms pulled him close, never hesitating as he pulled Dean onto his chest, resting them against the windshield of the car. 

Sam’s hand came up under his shirt and Dean moaned into the touch.  Dean shifted until he was straddling Sam, biting his way across Sam’s jaw.

“You never-” Sam said, his eyes startled as he looked up at Dean.

“I fucking gave in Sam,” he said, burying himself in his brother’s scarred neck.  “Did you really think I was going to be able to just come out and say ‘hey Master, how about you fuck me tonight?’  I didn’t have much Sammy, but I had my pride.”

Sam’s arms tightened around him as Dean pressed a kissing into his neck.  “Jesus Dean,” Sam brought their lips back together.  It was just like kissing Ford, but it was Sam and he knew his brother, understood the aggression and where it came from.  It put the pieces together, bringing Ford away from incomprehensible monster to suffering hero in moments.  He understood Ford’s anger, his mood swings, his unending patience and fluctuating affections. 

He felt Sam’s head fall to his shoulder, trying to get his breath, and Dean could understand.  He was trying to stop his own brain from exploding with the revelation.  Sam was his, he was there, alive, sorta, breathing, fucking _his_ again.

“Master Ford?”  Jo came in and stopped immediately.  Her eyes were downcast as they always seemed to be when she caught them too close and Dean understood why now.

“What is it, Jo?” his voice was wrecked and Dean hid his smirk as best he could by biting his bottom lip.  The way Sam was looking at his lip showed it wasn’t working very well. 

“The other masters want to know what happened to Ruby.”

He took a deep breath.  “Alright.  I’ll take care of it.”

“Master, please, I’ll take whatever blame there is for tonight.  I should have followed him out of the house.  It’s not his fault, whatever she did we all know she was gunning for you.”

Dean realized that with Sam’s head down she couldn’t see that the mask had been removed.  She didn’t know that they’d discovered one another again and what she was seeing, she thought, was punishment.

“Yeah Master Ford, it’s all her fault,” he teased.  Looking back at Jo he gave her a wink.  She couldn’t hide her confusion but then Dean was shoved off Sam’s lap and she could see him clearly.

“God, shut up Dean,” Sam laughed as he reached for the mask.  He got to Jo and cupped her chin so that she was looking at him.  “Ruby figured it out, just didn’t wait to find out my real name before she went to Dean.  She wanted him to give her the Colt in exchange for information to blackmail me.”

“Why not just blackmail you herself?”

Sam smiled.  “I’d have killed her and no one would have questioned me over it.  A slave killing a free woman is another story.”  He looked back at Dean and shook his head before slipping the mask back over his face.

“Sammy?”

“Dean I have to take care of this.”

“Why do you wear a mask?”

Sam sighed.  “I used to wear it in case anyone recognized me from before.  People see the scars,” he said, touching the skin of his neck lightly, “and they assume there are more.  No one questions my mask.  I was going to get rid of it actually, but then you came along.  I’ll get rid of it soon though.  I’m tired of hiding my face.”

“Won’t someone figure out that Sam Winchester is really a slave?”

Sam shook his head.  “There was so much chaos in those days that no one was doing in-depth background checks.  The fake ID you gave me right before I left for school?  They used that name.  According to public records, Sam Wesson is a slave.  Sam Winchester was a straight A student at Stanford who dropped out of sight during the rebellion and never turned up again.”

Dean shook his head, wondering how in the hell his brother thought he needed him when he was so damn good at taking care of himself like that. 

“So what do we do now?”

“I’m going to go out there and explain that Ruby tried to break into my house and steal the Colt before you caught her and used it on her.  Jo is going to take you up to the house.  Use the restraints tonight Jo.  If anyone comes looking for him, I want them to find him chained.”

“Sammy…”

“Dean, you can’t call me that.”

“Actually, we never did give you a first name.”

“What?”

Jo gave a small smile.  “Everyone calls you Master Ford.  Sam Ford works.  It’s close enough to the original anyway.”

Sam shook his head but Dean just looked between them until Sam nodded.  “Try to keep it at Ford, but I guess Jo is right.”  He stepped closer to Dean, his hand caressing his cheek as he took a deep breath.  “I’ll be back in our room as soon as I can get them all to leave.”

“Yes Master Ford,” he said with a smirk.

Sam sighed.  “Jo, don’t forget to tie him to the bed.  And Dean, don’t think I forgot what you said.  After all, a good master always takes his slaves needs into consideration.”

Jo stared after him as he walked out and Dean was retracing his words, trying to remember what he had asked for.  It hit him then, admitting how much he’d wanted from Ford and why he’d never been able to ask for it.  He shivered at the thought.

“Dean, are you okay?”

He realized she was afraid of him.  He knew the truth now and she was afraid of what he’d do.  He’d come to know her so well in the months since he’d come to the farm and he knew it was more than fear of what he might do to her.  It was fear of losing one of the few people she called friend. 

“No, I’m not okay yet.  I will be though.”  He thought of all the things he needed to say and realized there was something he never had said to her, something he never could because he’d believed her broken. 

He moved closer to her, tipped her head up with one hand and placed a gentle kiss on her lips.  “Thank you, for taking care of him.  For not letting him be alone when I couldn’t be there, when I didn’t know.”

She looked up at him, eyes wide.  “Ford, he loves you Dean.  I was so scared of what that would mean when you found out who he was, when you realized what he’d been doing.  I’ve spent all this time waiting on pins and needles for you to break him again.  Thank you, for not doing that.”

He nodded, pulling her up against his chest, taking comfort in one of the few people who could ever understand why the lies meant nothing now that he knew the truth.  His love of his brother had always been a corruptible thing; something that he’d already understood when Sam walked out the door.  His love for his brother had been all encompassing and he’d known even then that if Sam didn’t walk free they’d walk down this path.  He’d hoped time and distance would give him the ability to speak to his brother again without the growing need to be everything for him.

Maybe it would have.  Now though, he had his brother back and he wasn’t going to let him walk away ever again. Not that he had to worry about that.  Sam had always owned him.  He just had the papers now to prove it.

 

 

Jo faithfully chained him to the bed and although he hated the necessity, three different slave owners came to see if he was being properly chastised for not finding another way around the death of a free vampire.  One woman actually had the nerve to demand a chance to see a whipping but Sam told her firmly that punishment was his and his alone.  Although Dean was his faithful servant, the means he’d had to take to get such obedience had left him anything but tame to others outside his household.

She’d shrieked back and Dean had smiled at her, something feral and wild as she backed away.  He’d howled with laughter when she left, loud enough that Jess had come to check on him.

She curled up on the bed beside him and sighed as he thanked her for being with Sam, for staying.  Her look said clearly that he was a fool if he thought she was going to leave him, but when Jo came to collect her, Jess kissed him fondly on the cheek and wiggled her eyebrows at the cuffs.

“You kinky thing,” he teased.

Her smile brightened as she walked away from him and then Dean saw him there, watching from the doorway.  The mask was already in his hand and he smiled as he looked at Dean on the bed.

“I was beginning to think you forgot me,” Dean said as Sam closed the door behind him, Jess blowing kiss down the hall as Jo pulled her away.

“My duties as host don’t end just because you make life-altering discoveries.”

“The trials and tribulations of Master Ford.”

Sam slid his jacket off and threw it on the chair, starting at the buttons of his shirt.

“You gonna untie me Sammy?”

“No.”

Dean looked up and there was no grin on his brother’s face.  Sam blew the lights out in their room and dropped his shirt as he got closer to the bed.

“So were the candles because of the mask?”

Sam laughed.  “I was always afraid if you saw me too clearly you’d figure it out.  I was always good at stalking in the shadows though so I borrowed a few of Dad’s intimidation tricks.”

His pants fell and even though Dean couldn’t see any longer, he could feel the bed dipping down beside him.  He turned on his side automatically, like he did every night they shared a bed.  He didn’t realize how true it was until now, knowing that even when they’d had to share hotel rooms with their father that he’d always curled up on his side with Sam’s head buried the in the back of his neck, one hand clutching his shirt.

He heard Ford on the other side, the nightstand drawer opening and closing softly before he felt Ford’s hand on his hip, his hard body pulling against him.

“Are you mine Dean?” he asked softly against the skin of his neck.

“Let me go.”

“Last time you mentioned the cuffs, you were begging for them Dean.  You wanted to fight this so hard but you were losing that battle.  Why?  Why couldn’t you give yourself up to me?”

He took a deep breath, felt the hard length pushing up against his ass, knowing it was his brother, his master, his keeper that was going to stretch him open and take him hard and deep.  “I was Sammy’s, always Sammy’s.  I could give almost everything but I could never do that.  It was always his to take.”

“Everything?” Ford asked with a scrape of teeth against his neck.  They weren’t the sharp nips Dean was used to, but the press of vampiric fangs waiting for his blood.

“Yes, god Sammy yes it’s all yours.  I’m yours.”

Sam turned him over and then their lips were crashing together, Dean pulling at the restraints to get closer.  Sam crawled between his legs and settled himself there, body pressing Dean into the mattress in a familiar way and he arched into the heat of his body. 

Sam’s hands traced over his sides as he moved lower, lips trailing lightly but never stopping anywhere long, never staying to play.  He sat back on his heels and looked down at Dean, smiling.  “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this, Dean.  You have no idea how hard it was to lie next to you in this bed every night,” He leaned down then, his fingers tracing over Dean’s stomach, then working lower until he was lightly stroking his cock.    

 “That night, when you finally let me in, I wanted so much.  Wanted to taste you, to learn the way to make you moan, wanted to know what it felt like to be inside you.  I knew I couldn’t, not until you knew it all.”

“Sammy, please …”

Sam smiled at him for one second, looking up through his bangs as he lowered his head slowly.  He licked his lips and then he was wrapping them around his cock, sucking just the head into his mouth.  Dean struggled against the restraints, wanting to touch his brother but there was no give in the damn things.  He knew that, but he couldn’t help but try. 

Sam’s hand stroked up and down his length and his lips sucked him down further until all Dean could do was hold on.  Sam’s free hand pushed at his hips, keeping him in place as he continued to tongue patterns into his skin.

When he stopped trying to press up into Sam’s mouth, his brother’s hand released him.  He heard the bottle click open and a minute later he felt the slick touch of his brother’s finger around his entrance.  He didn’t try to press in, simply circled slow and soft as Dean moaned into it. 

His cock was released from Sam’s mouth and he looked down to see him watching.  “Have you ever done this before Dean?” he asked with his gravel deep voice.

Dean shook his head and then Sam’s finger was pressing into him.  He let out a deep breath, tried to breathe steady as his brother opened him up, thrusting one finger in and out of his body until he was ready for the second. 

“So fucking beautiful Dean,” Sam whispered against the skin of his hip.  He took Dean’s cock back into his mouth as he worked his fingers in and out, until Dean was pushing back as he thrust in with three. 

He slipped from Sam’s lips as they began working up his stomach, his fingers pulled from Dean’s body.  He was pressing over Dean then, his body covering him as his mouth crushed into his.  Dean struggled against the bonds again.

“Sammy …”

“Who am I, Dean?” he asked, the head of his cock pressing against Dean’s ass.    He tried to press back into it, needed this more than he could remember needing anything.

“Ford,” he begged.

“Who am I?”

He could feel it then, the last of his reservations falling to the wayside as he looked up into his brother’s eyes.  “Master, please.”

He pushed in then, his cock easing past the tight ring of muscle as Dean’s mouth was captured in a bruising kiss.  One of Sam’s hands was pressed next to Dean’s head and the other was wrapped loosely around his cock, giving him just enough friction to drive him insane.

As Dean began pushing back into Sam, his brother pulled out slightly, then began with shallow thrusts that made him gasp.  “Fuck,” he whispered, Sam’s laugh catching against his neck as he bit lightly just below his ear.  It was so fucking different from anything he’d ever felt before and then Sam pulled almost all the way out and thrust in hard, and Dean was arching into it, heat spreading over him as his brother found the perfect spot inside of him.

“Sammy,” his voice was a whimper and he didn’t care, nothing mattered so long as Sam didn’t stop.  He’d wanted this for so long, wanted his brother and wanted Ford and it was all his now and he didn’t care if Sam knew how broken it left him.  He already knew.  “Master, please,” he begged again.

“Shhhh,” Sam soothed, his lips trailing over Dean’s as his fingers wrapped around him tighter.  “I’ve got you, Dean, always gonna take care of you.”

His body arched up off the sheets as the first wave of pleasure hit, painting his brother’s hand in thick white spurts.  He felt Sam’s hips continue to thrust into him until he was biting on Dean’s shoulder, his own cries muffled in his brother’s skin.

They lay like that, together, trying to catch their breath but neither able to move, to gain the distance that might give them that chance.  Sam looked up suddenly and stared at Dean’s wrists.  Dean looked up, grateful that his brother was able to break the moment. 

“Dean,” Sam shook his head as he looked back down at Dean.  He shifted slightly and then Sam was pulling out of his body.  He watched his brother move across the room to the bathroom and didn’t try to hide the fact that he was.  Sam looked over his shoulder and smirked before cleaning himself up and then bringing in two towels.  He cleaned Dean up with one, wiping away the traces of their activities.  He unlocked Dean’s wrists then, cleaning the blood off gently with the towels. 

He placed a gentle kiss on each wrist and threw the cloths back into the bathroom.  He slid in between the sheets with Dean and instead of turning on his side, Dean simply opened his arms.  Sam let his head rest on his brother’s shoulder, his legs twining around his. 

“So … handcuffs.  Kinky,” Dean teased.

Sam bit lightly at his shoulder and smiled sleepily.  “Just reminding you who’s in charge here Dean.”

 Dean closed his eyes, his lips still curled into a smile as he tilted his head slightly and kissed Sam’s temple.  “Yes Master Ford.”

He dropped off to sleep with the sound of his brother’s laughter in his head.

 

 

 

 

Dean shuffled along the last stretch of land in Master Ford’s property, none too happy about it.  The carriage ride was anything but steady and Sam had taken the Impala ahead earlier.  He didn’t know why Sam got the car and he had to take the damn carriage with Jo but it wasn’t fair.  It could be that he was just trying to assert his power, but it wasn’t like that worked when Dean didn’t know who he was, so he wasn’t sure why he thought it would now. 

Jo smiled at his discomfort and he shook his head.  “You’ve been spending too much time with Jess,” he said softly. 

She laughed.  “If I did I would have got an eyeful too.”

He groaned, trying not to remember the look on Jess’s face when she’d walked in that morning to catch him in the act with his brother.  Her face had gone beet red and there had been a flash of hunger there, before she’d looked up at him apologetically and ran from the room. 

She still loved Sam, but she was never going to be able to be with him again.  It was still a rare moment where she felt safe enough to even kiss someone on the cheek, especially a vampire. 

Jo on the other hand was a handful and he didn’t know what they were gonna do with her.  Sam had been hinting at something big, but no details had been forthcoming and Dean felt like he was spinning his wheels. 

The carriage stopped and Jo led Dean to the last of the barns on Master Ford’s property.  In the back was an old cemetery and Jo nodded towards it.  “There are two tombstones back there, one for each of your parents.  He uses it as a cover to come back here,” Jo said softly.  “No one would wonder why he wants to visit Winchester graves,”

Dean grit his teeth but then the door opened and Dean was walking inside.  The Impala was parked in the back corner and Dean looked around for Sam.

“Where is he?”

Jo moved to the other side and stomped hard on the floor three times.  She shifted to the side and a large trap door opened up from underneath.  She smiled at Dean as she dropped down the entrance.  He cursed as he looked, then lowered himself more carefully.  “Damn it Sammy, you think you can make your escape hatches more human friendly?” he bitched as he stood up.

Sam laughed from the other side of the room and Dean couldn’t help the shock that he knew showed on his face.

Tables were lined up across the way, two were full of guns, one with ammunition and another full of various knives of different makes and uses.  Next to that was a table with maps spread across it.  What really stole his breath though was the assortment of people standing around them.

“Dean, it’s about time you got here boy,” Bobby said as he moved around the maps and pulled Dean up tight against him.  “Good to see you son.”

“Bobby, I never …”

“I got out.  Tried to go back for you but damn if they didn’t close ranks after that last heist we did.”

“What heist was that Bobby?” Sam asked.

“Master Reynolds place.”

“That was you two?”

Bobby just smiled and Sam laughed again.  “He’s an ass.  He deserved worse.”

“Well that’s what we’re here about, right boys?”

 

It took a few more minutes to get himself ingratiated into the group.  He knew some faces, besides Bobby, Jo, and Sam, there was Pastor Jim.  A handful of other hunters were there and they each gave a small smile or wave of some kind in acknowledgement.  They went back to their planning and Dean pulled Sam aside.

“What the hell is this Sammy?”

“No matter what someone else made me into, I’m still a hunter Dean.  Maybe the government was ready to cower to the violence and make people into slaves, but I’m not.  We’re not.  We’ve got others out in the field right now, working to bring down the vampires.  We’re not stopping until we get every last one.”

“What about you?  Jo?”

Sam nodded.  “When the time comes, us too.  We made that promise to each other years ago.  When the time came, I’d take her out and I’d find someone to kill me.  I have to be the end of it, Dean.”

Dean saw the seriousness in his brother’s eyes and he knew he couldn’t argue.  He had time though.  Years since it wasn’t an easy battle they were talking about.  “Just remember this, Master,” he gave the word a teasing tone but there was nothing light about his choice in using it now, “Where you go, I go.  You decide to give it a go at the pearly gates and I’ll be right along beside you.”

“Dean, no.”

“Already a done deal.  Besides, someone’s got to make sure you go through the right gate.”

Sam stared at him a moment longer, then shook his head.  “Alright Dean, we’ll face this together.  No matter where it takes us.”

Dean wanted to kiss him, to taste his master’s lips and feel the strength of his hands, but it wasn’t the time or place for it.  Dean was nothing if not patient though.  In the weeks since they’d become lovers he’d learned to balance the two men his brother was, to learn when his brother needed him and when he needed to step back and fall into line for Master Ford.  It was a juggling act at times and he was sure they were both so damn broken they’d never find their way clear of it, but so was the whole damn world and he was just fine with that really.

Instead he moved away, picking up the nearest shotgun, and checked it, his fingers playing over her parts like the he’d been born to it.  The room went silent as he did, and when he looked up they were all watching him.  Sam stood to the side with Jo just behind him, smiling against his arm. 

Dean smirked as he set the gun back in its place.  “I don’t know about you boys and girls, but it looks like we’ve got some work to do.”

 

 


	2. Tame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was a hunter through and through, no matter who thought he was a slave. Master Ford didn’t call him out on the glare he gave the Slave Owner either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the December Drabble Days

“You don’t share your treasures, Master Ford,” a vampire said as he gazed at Dean.  
  
Dean hated vampires and he never let anyone forget it.  He was a hunter through and through, no matter who thought he was a slave.  Master Ford didn’t call him out on the glare he gave the Slave Owner either.  
  
“Some treasures take a long time to acquire,” Ford said as he pulled Dean closer and nuzzled his neck.  “Some need precise handling because they are not tame.”  
  
Dean smiled at Sam’s words and glared at the vampire, showing just how true that statement was.

**Author's Note:**

> beta’d by the amazing alocine_89 and gypsy_atavari . They both did an amazing job helping me polish this up! Thank you so much!!! And a huge thanks to the Mods at vampirebigbang on live jouranl, without whose deadline this might never have been written.


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